Wednesday, 13 July 2011
(click on photos for larger image)
July always seems like a high tide kind of month in the garden. Midsummer has passed and the swelling buds and green expectation of Spring has blossomed into the full on riot of flowers and weeds. The garden has yet to fall into the lazy stupor of Autumn, when all that green growth mellows out and chills for a while in long afternoons under gold skies. But for now, the garden is at full reach. The lawn is awash with clover and daisy. The flower beds, at any moment, will surrender to waves of bindweed and brambles and the jasmine and buddleja are in full sail.
Overhead, on clear blue evenings, swifts are hunting. This year's fledglings are still visiting the bird feeders, young woodpeckers and jays the last to arrive. Slugs, snails and spiders are in abundance. The ants have not yet flown and the bush crickets are not yet singing. Butterflies are arriving, red admirals, ringlets, large whites and the lovely hummingbird hawkmoth.
Everywhere are bees and hoverflies. In the late dusk the bats flit and very soon, the dragonflies will join them in a feeding frenzy on the insects that fill the July air like so much woodland krill.
The green glow of a gloworm.
There is no time to stop, I should be weeding and deadheading and clearing and mowing and... then it rains, a heavy downpour that threatens to flatten all the flowers, only it's July and within an hour or two the garden will be swell again.