I have been so busy lately, working on the garden but not in it. Planning and organising; working on the greenhouse; tidying and preparing things; working on an exciting new project and generally getting ready for the new season.
A lot of the work has been either on the computer and in the shed and mostly away from the garden. It’s not like I’ve been ignoring it – I’ve set up the sprinkler and as it is on a timer I have to go out and move it every fifteen minutes to the next spot of thirsty vulnerable plants. But the thing is I race out there, looking so I don’t trip over the tools and other gardening accessories I have left carelessly lying about and should know better. Looking so I know where to move the sprinkler to next. Looking into the sky for signs of rain. Looking at the strawberry runners that I have left in a bucket, meaning to give away, but as yet haven’t got around to it and feeling serious guilt. (If you are local and want some strawberry plants I have loads – message me).
But I haven’t been ‘seeing’ my garden. I haven’t noticed the garlic has come up. I haven’t noticed that one of the brassicas I planted – without labels and then promptly forgot which was which, has revealed itself as a cauliflower and now we have to eat it. I haven’t noticed that the asparagus is going crazy and most excitedly I haven’t noticed there is a tiny baby tomato on my overwintering tomato plant. And on top of all that I need to mow again!
When I open my eyes and look about, I see the slightest inkling of neglect beginning to slip into my much loved garden. How has this happened? I love my garden – I dote upon it and yet I have taken it for granted a little bit lately.
I can’t let Assembly August distract me from the reason for having Assembly August, and that is the garden itself. The days are growing noticeably longer and so I shall take this extra time that up until recently has been spent huddled around a freshly lit fire, willing it to grow large and warm the house, and I will grab a cuppa tea and just spend some time in my garden, being in it, noticing it, smelling it, and become in tune with what it is telling me and what it needs.
Come again soon – hopefully my garden will forgive me and flourish to prove it!
Sarah the Gardener : o )