Archives for posts with tag: daffodils

Daffodil time

Golden in the morning light,

waving in the gentle breeze,

a trumpet voluntary of  Spring.


Mum's daffs

Often, it is only after something you took for granted is gone that you truly appreciate its worth and beauty. Growing up, every spring was filled with daffodils in varied shades and shapes. They followed where the snowdrops fled, in stands of bright yellows, pale whites, lemon and gold, nodding in the wind. We have filled churches with them for Mother’s Day, festooned vestibules to welcome Brides and gifted them to elderly ladies. Accompanied by a friend from the city to gather flowers for a service; she stood stock still overcome by the sheer bliss and joy of a field of flowers. She couldn’t believe her eyes! Looking at the photo again I realise just how precious it was and I miss the huge variety of flowers our parents grew.

With each spring we discover new and varied blooms within our garden, although the white daffodil I meant to rescue from the composter last year is surprisingly yellow this! With the warmth and sunshine of the last days of March, the daffodils have broken out into yellow cheerfulness, bejewelled with sparkling raindrops as April showers come our way…

New growth is everywhere, from the pink butterbur (Petasites hybridus) pushing through the cold, damp ground, adding new leaves of bright green as the flowers fade. In the past the large leaves were used to wrap butter, and as a remedy for migraines, allergies and nasal congestion. Ground elder has spread everywhere and unfortunately the “gardening girls” don’t seem to enjoy it; maybe I could interest a chef from a fashionable restaurant to serve it as a vegetable? (Another common name is Bishop’s weed as it was traditionally a remedy for gout.) Forget-me-not peeks out amongst the Aquilegia as the fat bumble bee visits the few flowers providing nectar.

Oscar pleads for a walk in the rain-soaked garden, he doesn’t seem to mind standing in the wet as he listens attentively to the rustling of the leaves in the hope that a vole or shrew give away their hiding place. Taking on the air of a Pointer he stands, foot raised, ready to ambush the quivering tussock of grass. Pairs of chaffinch, blue tits, great tits, gold finch seem unperturbed by his presence and come perilously close before darting away.

The grass has had its first cut, seeds are pushing through the soil, new leaves on the whitethorn and blackthorn, as the leaves on the roses unfurl in deep red and green. From the shelter of the pine trees the pheasant calls his harem as a young female breaks cover and runs across the garden. The garden is alive with new growth, birdsong, and the beech leaves swell and fatten on the twig. Very soon the apple and cherry blossom will break too; and I can try that new recipe for cherry blossom syrup!

 Thanks for stopping by; enjoy the changing season, whether it is to new life or winters sleep.

After days of cold grey skies, torrential rains and storm force wind; the sun shines – hooray! Only drawback – it shines between the snow fall. As soon as their pen is opened the chickens normally make a bee-line to the back door but not today! Huddling beside the coop, they refused to budge even with a tasty crust to entice them. Oscar too, sits bemused at the kitchen door watching his world turn white. It is bitterly cold with the wind chill, the broad beans, planted in November, have curled up and died (should have used a cloche!) The field beans are doing well, though the Rye grass is rather woe-begone as chickens and pheasants graze the tender greens. First buds fattening on the twigs, Winter Honeysuckle (Lonerica fragrantissima) is about to break bud. Nestled in the Beech leaves, the snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) begin to flower as the daffodils push up through the cold earth.

I long to be in the garden but the ground is so cold and wet.Today’s job is to tidy the study, order seeds and set aside time for research and study. Another flurry of snow, another streak of sun, sometimes it’s nice to sit a the window in the warm!

You're Beautiful

At the risk of sounding like a stuck record – t’was another rainy day. We had a brief interlude when sky turned blue and the sun shone brightly. The snowdrops have poured over the garden, sadly they are almost over; now the daffodils are about to break. New leaf and blossom point to Spring.  “Be patient” I tell myself, surely the weather will change soon… (Interestingly “patient” comes from the Old French and Latin roots meaning suffering).

Seems a life-time away when we stood in our African home, watching the storms over the mountains, smelling the rain, looking at the dry, dusty ground and longing for rain. When it came it was so welcome, overnight the ground clothed itself with new green…