GreygirlGarden: Bees in my Bonnet

I get a lot of these. Not the gentle furry type but the aggressive and persistent ones.

This is a new aspect of my post-2010 self (2010 being the year I found myself in a dark steep-sided valley without a torch or compass and realised I was lost).

These bees take many forms, the one constant is how noisy and distracting they are. They are always about a thing I think I might need, something positive and beneficial that I am convinced is going to help - maybe even bring about a change for the better.

Most recently it was to get a good quality warm and waterproof coat, so I wouldn't be thwarted by autumn weather when I need to garden or go for a walk. This in turn triggered a bee about wellies to replace my split ones so I can get in amongst the plants and not wreck my flip flops.

One bee always seems to cause another.

I find it hard to sit down and do nothing 'cos of the hive of pressing things I 'have' to do. The most annoying bee is the one that won't let me make a coffee or pick up my knitting or go outside until I've tidied the kitchen, put everything out of sight and wiped the surfaces down so it's clear of mess. It will sting unbearably if I don't.


a fetching bonnet...

a proper bonnet!

a "mum, how could you?!" bonnet

Gardening in the Head

I dislike myself a lot less whan I'm gardening, I shed the self-criticism and constant nagging. It's the one activity I feel confident about doing and can become absorbed to the point of disappearing (like Moominmamma did in the garden mural she painted on the kitchen wall).

the lovely Moominmamma

It's so easy to garden in your head, anytime, anyplace, anywhere. Endless possibilities and planning keep the mind busy in a good way.

The garden in my head is on a scale that gets bigger and bigger - unlike my real one. I have a virtual allotment that tend to regularly; I have bonfires there, no end of tools, a wheelbarrow and water butt, bays of compost and leafmould.

In my head there is space for every plant and tree I would like to grow. A woodland area with fruit trees and shade, under- planted with wild cyclamen, winter aconite and ferns. It smells fantastic.

Winter Aconite

cyclamen

A meadow of different grasses and native flowers for the bees, walls full of plants that have self-seeded in the nooks and crannies, with a growth of beardy and velvety mosses.

Tunnels of scented climbers and wild roses rambling through hawthorn hedges so there are berries for the birds. Plenty of hazel for thumbsticks and plant supports.

Chinese Witch Hazel

Kermesina - a deep crimson clematis

autumn light

I have a wish list that grows whenever I skim the pages of a seed catalogue or visit a garden...

Bishop's Weed - I have just sown some seeds!


Hydrangea Paniculata Grandiflora - a colour changing beauty

I am making room in a sheltered spot for this

This witch hazel has a scent that is truly addictive

Gardening in your head does mean you can take it with you and always have access to it. You can go there and have a wander.

While the real-world garden is once again being battered by rain, the one in your head can be quiet and lit with low autumn light.

You lift the collar of your waxed coat (which is like a second skin) and put your hands deep into the pockets. The mulchy, leafy ground feels soft and springy under your new wellies.