Sunday, May 13, 2012
Summertime
Today is warm here in Epsom and it seems right to announce the coming of summer.
The bulbs in the new daffodil bed are now over and their containing grass maybe half a metre high, with some colour provided by forget-me-nots. Not clear whether they came with the 'Meadow Mix' grass seed (or whatever it was called. Something like that anyway), with the compost dug in before seeding or after the event. I will probably make the first cut at the end of the month with a second pencilled in for Michaelmas.
Whereas the long established daffodil bulbs at the bottom of the garden came up and are now dying down, having, almost without exception, failed to flower. Not clear what is wrong; tree felling & lopping in the neighbouring garden meant that there was a lot more light than they were accustomed too, but I would not have thought that that would have been a problem. Celandines done, having flowered well this year. Lords and Ladies in sympathy with the daffodils and going over without much in the way of flowers at all. The various clumps of mushrooms pushed up by the recent rain - some coffee brown and some a creamy white - now dying down again. Bluebells - mainly the gross Spanish sort rather than the delicate aboriginals - in full flood.
No newts to be seen this morning. maybe they have done their spring duty and have sunk back down to the ooze at the bottom for a well earned rest.
Having taken stock, away on the Horton clockwise circuit, where for the first time this year I was moved to remove both scarf and jacket. Hawthorne flowers smelling good; one of the insect attracting chemical smells from flowers I rather like; some of those we get later in the year can be a bit rank. Plenty of lycra types pushing up and down, some of them causing blockage by cycling two up. A bit naff, but not as naff as the large number of people who see fit to cycle on pavements these days. OK so it is allowed, encouraged even, on some pavements, but I do not care for it as a pedestrian and I very rarely did it in my cycling days. And if I did, I made sure that my bell was operational. Unlike the middle aged, respectable looking lady who shot out of Station Approach, on the pavement, the other day. A few seconds either way and she would have had me: at 200lbs laden even a slow moving bike can do a lot of damage.
The sun being out, the suburban air is full of the droning of lawnmowers. Music drifting out of the windows of late rising adolescents in houses and boy racers in cars. No doubt later in the day the smell of burning cooking oil from barbecues will be added to the mix. Last but not least, before noon, the waste transfer station was doing a roaring trade with the queue of around 1,000 metres stretching back into Longmead Road. What was it like early afternoon, a few hours later, when all the lawn clippings were due to arrive?
The bulbs in the new daffodil bed are now over and their containing grass maybe half a metre high, with some colour provided by forget-me-nots. Not clear whether they came with the 'Meadow Mix' grass seed (or whatever it was called. Something like that anyway), with the compost dug in before seeding or after the event. I will probably make the first cut at the end of the month with a second pencilled in for Michaelmas.
Whereas the long established daffodil bulbs at the bottom of the garden came up and are now dying down, having, almost without exception, failed to flower. Not clear what is wrong; tree felling & lopping in the neighbouring garden meant that there was a lot more light than they were accustomed too, but I would not have thought that that would have been a problem. Celandines done, having flowered well this year. Lords and Ladies in sympathy with the daffodils and going over without much in the way of flowers at all. The various clumps of mushrooms pushed up by the recent rain - some coffee brown and some a creamy white - now dying down again. Bluebells - mainly the gross Spanish sort rather than the delicate aboriginals - in full flood.
No newts to be seen this morning. maybe they have done their spring duty and have sunk back down to the ooze at the bottom for a well earned rest.
Having taken stock, away on the Horton clockwise circuit, where for the first time this year I was moved to remove both scarf and jacket. Hawthorne flowers smelling good; one of the insect attracting chemical smells from flowers I rather like; some of those we get later in the year can be a bit rank. Plenty of lycra types pushing up and down, some of them causing blockage by cycling two up. A bit naff, but not as naff as the large number of people who see fit to cycle on pavements these days. OK so it is allowed, encouraged even, on some pavements, but I do not care for it as a pedestrian and I very rarely did it in my cycling days. And if I did, I made sure that my bell was operational. Unlike the middle aged, respectable looking lady who shot out of Station Approach, on the pavement, the other day. A few seconds either way and she would have had me: at 200lbs laden even a slow moving bike can do a lot of damage.
The sun being out, the suburban air is full of the droning of lawnmowers. Music drifting out of the windows of late rising adolescents in houses and boy racers in cars. No doubt later in the day the smell of burning cooking oil from barbecues will be added to the mix. Last but not least, before noon, the waste transfer station was doing a roaring trade with the queue of around 1,000 metres stretching back into Longmead Road. What was it like early afternoon, a few hours later, when all the lawn clippings were due to arrive?
# posted by Jim @ 8:09 AM 
