Rainy days
Day 23 of astronomical summer
What a rainy week for a July? Each Summer is different and they sure are becoming varied. When I see the rain falling yet again - I think of this beautiful Mary Oliver poem:
☂️ Lingering in Happiness by Mary Oliver, from Why I Wake Early
After rain after many days without rain,
it stays cool, private and cleansed, under the trees,
and the dampness there, married now to gravity,
falls branch to branch, leaf to leaf, down to the ground
where it will disappear–but not, of course, vanish
except to our eyes. The roots of the oaks will have their share,
and the white threads of the grasses, and the cushion of moss;
a few drops, round as pearls, will enter the mole’s tunnel;
and soon so many small stones, buried for a thousand years,
will feel themselves being touched.
*******
Last weekend, I visited Stroud in the Cotswolds. It inevitably rained most of the weekend leaving a few thoughtful gaps so we could make a BBQ or breakfast outside. We walked in the rain, sodden trousers and rain lashed caps in place.
It was nice to see the rain fall into the woodland, I thoughtfully listening to the patter on the leaves, just as nature intended. After, I watched the birds wash in puddles - nature seems grateful for the rain and there is nothing like the smell of a rainy garden.
It’s incredible when you think about rain as a singular event - nature’s well considered plan to ensure plants can grow on planet Earth. All of the drops of precipitation so large inside the clouds, they have no other choice but to fall with gravitas down into the ocean, filling rivers and draining into the ground water. National Geographic)
I can’t help but feel a little mournful when it rains in the city. I see great puddles gather on the tarmac, pooling in an unnatural way and small rivers of water rushing into overflowing drains.
I try to focus on the positives, I don’t have to water the allotment as often and won’t worry about clients pots or the warm sun drying out house plants on window sills. I imagine it must be restful for the plants, a respite from the pounding full sun they’ve had over the past few weeks.
I have become knowledgable about the weather since working outdoors. I look and listen to the subtle clues which indicate how the weather may change. First, the wind will blow and the trees will shoosh in the breeze. Next the sky will darken and at this point, I am already fully dressed in my waterproof outfit. It was fall on cue as expected and I can usually tell if it’s here to stay or a short burst by the type of rain that falls. This weeks rain has been unforgiving for the gardeners - non stop and heavy handed. I’ve been sulky and sodden at the end of a few of these days.
I’ve been told the book, Weather Wise written by Alan Watts is helpful in understanding weather cues, recommended by a clever friend who also works outdoors.
Gardening highlights of this week
A lot of people believe Hydrangea macrophylla to be a plain Jane as you will see her everywhere, in all different types of gardens. The flowers on the outside open first and then together all the buds open and bloom as if in a choir. I’m still charmed by my wonderful Ars sectatuers (discussed in my previous post) and they blended in place with these striking flowers.
There are many moments which take my breath away during gardening and this clematis did exactly that.
When I arrive at my clients gardens, a few of them give me a walk through. We talk about what is doing well, comment on plants thriving and others which need some TLC. Tasks are discussed and eventually they disappear off to boil the kettle and kindly make me a cup of tea.
This week, one of my clients pointed out this gorgeous Clematis ‘Betty Corning’. It had climbed up the pleached ornamental pear trees (they don’t fruit as are cultivated that way) and was rested on top of the tree, delicately and tastefully, in full sun. The flowers are small lilac bells and truly warm my heart. It is pruning group 3 so you should cut it back incredibly hard to 15-20cm in February, yet despite this rough treatment, it will reward you yearly.
I’ll finish with another favourite poem, this one is written by film director, Jim Jarmusch, featured in Patterson movie. It goes as so forth:
Water falls - by Jim Jarmusch
Water falls from the bright air
It falls like hair
Falling across a young girl’s shoulders
Water falls
Making pools in the asfalt
Dirty mirrors with clouds and buildings inside
It falls on the roof of my house
Falls on my mother and on my hair
Most people call it rain
******
Kenzan display of the week
Lathyrus odoratus (sweet peas), a climbing annual grown from seed, collected from a clients garden. Great for pollinators and a wonderful scent. It’s important to pick sweet peas or dead head to avoid them going to seed as the plant will die. The flowers looked so special in place, it seemed a shame but needs must.
