What once was a basket of marginals has, in the course of the past few days, become a bedraggled display of semi-submerged aquatics. The fish don’t seem to mind the pond’s replenishment, but the plants are becoming somewhat confused; the water lily pads are struggling to find their level!
Elsewhere, the recently planted shrubs, and ‘Kilmarnock’ weeping willow, are saying thankyou very much for the amazing way in which the elements have quenched their thirst. The blossom on the long established fruit trees is no longer so pleasing to the eye; the ground of both lawn and nascent mini-meadow squelches symphonically as one wends their way up the garden.
My beloved and I are currently struggling to defeat a vigorous crop of dandelions, whilst simultaneously fighting an ongoing battle with the swelling tide of ground elder. None of these struggles takes away the thrill of spending time in the garden (and its incorporated wildlife area) but, recent heavy rainfall has flooded out my desire to spend much time imbibing the fresh air.
Replenishing the sundry bird feeders, at times, seems like another Sisyphean task; so many birds are raising their young, in close proximity, that our supplement to natures bounty is rapidly devoured. At least when I’m too wimpish to venture out there, in the windswept rain, I can enjoy observing the resultant avain activity from the comfort of my armchair.
I can’t help feeling rather privileged to have such everyday wonders and miracles on the doorstep, especially having previously dwelt in a second floor apartment (third floor if you’re from the other side of the pond) with little or no access to a garden.