There are more, much more this year than there usually are. The garden is warm. I've seen the trees doing blossom and autumn leaves. The winter jasmine is already out, while my nasturtiums and the passion vine are still flowering away with enthusiasm, the geraniums are having another go, and there are also fuschias, ornamental sage, penstemon, erigeron and veronica in flower, along with the plants you'd expect, like the chrysanthemums. The seasons feel tilted, as if they're not quite sure who should be here, as if they're jostling together.
You have to ask questions about climate change. I'm a sporadic recorder on Nature's Calendar, and they say with the confidence that comes of having a vast dataset; spring is coming earlier and autumn is coming later, It's good for my autumn flower arrangements, but what about the pests and the harvests and the planning and the seasonal tasks?
Time will tell. But in the meantime I'm letting the garden have a last few glorious weeks. We've had our first frost, but it didn't get down to the ground. So the Peaches and the Tweedia and the alpines and the Abutilons can have a last few days outside before going to greenhouse.
You have to ask questions about climate change. I'm a sporadic recorder on Nature's Calendar, and they say with the confidence that comes of having a vast dataset; spring is coming earlier and autumn is coming later, It's good for my autumn flower arrangements, but what about the pests and the harvests and the planning and the seasonal tasks?
Time will tell. But in the meantime I'm letting the garden have a last few glorious weeks. We've had our first frost, but it didn't get down to the ground. So the Peaches and the Tweedia and the alpines and the Abutilons can have a last few days outside before going to greenhouse.
No comments:
Post a Comment