Saturday 5 December 2020

Gardening in the winter

There is something immensely pleasurable and satisfying about doing garden work in December. Probably because you can't do it every day as it's dependent on what is happening weather-wise, and even on a good-weather day there are few hours in which to do it - and it becomes a valued treat and is never a chore. 

Today after two days of snow and rain the garden was moist, muddy, but good to work in; so I dug a hole, then evicted a Mahonia with some attendant bulbs from one of last year's 'winter pots' and re-homed it at the back of the garden, as planned a year ago, cutting back the climbers in that area; the whiles being scolded by a blackbird who considered that whole area, probably rightly, hers. Then, I planted the last of this year's new bulbs into various areas, particularly the little 'woodland' bit that I've been developing this year. These were mostly wild hyacinths ('bluebells' if you're English) and some daffodils which promise to be very fine when they bloom in the spring. Then, a few remaining daffodil bulbs went into a pot, and I'll see in the spring where they might go into the ground. Finally, a little bit of pruning of a hydrangea, to prevent wind-rock, and a little more on roses...

I got a bit muddy, and enjoyed this just as much as when I was a child, a long time ago, digging holes in the garden of my parents' house!

My garden has a strange shape, because of the way that the 'new build' area, bordering on woodland, was developed in the 1990s. As a result, it's bigger than the standard 'new build' patch of ground, and so has what I think of as a 'secret' area, through an arch that I put in several years ago with the area through the archway not visible from the house. The arch has clematis and honeysuckle growing over it, or at least they're meant to grow over it although the honeysuckle has its own way of growing everywhere else! Bluetits and coal tits enjoy this secret area, and were flying into its trees and from there to the bird feeders in the 'main' part, during all the time I was working there.

After sunset, I walked around with a cup of coffee, looking at the plants which are still growing, still flowering, and those which give their winter flowers and scents. The Viburnum bodnantense scents the pathway through the garden leading to that secret area. Next year's buds are very visible on shrubs and trees. As the twilight deepens - it's pretty dark as I write this - I am rejoicing in my winter garden.