A small record of the town garden in September, - I have to say it is much quieter and more refined than what we left behind, growing in the hillside garden - but equally appreciated and loved!
Here is the little patch of wild flowers that we planted in the spring, next to the compost heap and in behind the Stella D-Oro day lillies. I expect it will spring up again next year, early in the spring, and we will be able to enjoy itall summer long.
The delphinium in the back garden are still blooming next to the phlox, and they make a pretty picture at night, glowing in the night lights along the edge of the raised bed.
Early morning shadows on the back lawn and I am tempted to take my first cup of coffee here in the quiet shade of the willow tree, away from
morning traffic.
I miss the view to the south, where the long reaches of the valley cross the border at Chapaka, and the changes in colours and shadows on the Cawston hills, but this little garden has many compensations as we grow older and appreciate the surroundings as much as the exercise required to keep everything within bounds!
Last year we watched the quail come up acrossthe meadow from their home in the burn pile of prunings down below the house. This year their village cousins scurry across the 'parkland' from the old creek bed that runs along the bottom of the benchland to the north of us, eager for the feed that Flo, the neighbour, puts out for them.
This afternoon I saw a dozen of these lovely creatures checking out the walnuts that lie on the roof of the neighbouring shed, just outside the bedroom window....
The roses are particularly beautiful. I want to pick the Abraham Darby but then again, I want them to last as long as possible, and so I leave them where they grow and visit often. Mister Lincoln has grown very tall and lanky, as befits his name, I guess. The gorgeous deep velvety bloom atop the highest stem could easily be taken for a top hat.
These are volunteers - cheerful daisies against the blue of the raised bed.
As are the snapdragons that hide amongst the roses and shasta daisies.
A perfect bloom, faintly fragrant and appealing.
The bee balm is looking as little tattered, but still a great attraction to the bees.
I spoke of the passionate weaving, and the passion arose when I found I had been too hasty and enthusiastic when I was tying on the warp by myself, and had made a real mess of getting it tight and even. So evenutally I faced up to the problem, unwound the back beam, inserted new brown paper to separate the rolls, rolled it up again, carefully and with great attention, and now I have about six wonderful inches woven. And I am as delighted as I was when I first started to weave, forty years ago. This is a funny little loom, with quirks all its own. but I think we will manage nicely together.
Life is good.....
