Sometimes something can be right in front of you, metaphorically making jazz hands, and you just don’t see it. I had a morning coffee by the top pond today and spent a happy hour admiring the water hawthorn and the hostas coming through. It was only later in the day that I was suddenly shocked to see that the ruddy great cherry right opposite the pond was in full flower. How had I missed that!
But it is that time of year – everything comes on so quickly that a moment of navel gazing and you’ve missed the grand opening.
This turned out to be admire a cherry tree day, in fact. I was chatting to mum this morning and hanging out the spare bedroom window, as you do, when I was reminded that the cherry tree at the front, which I am always thinking I pretty unprepossessing and all trunk, is actually glorious from the spare bedroom window. Instead of toying with getting rid of it I am now focussed on getting a climber up the lower trunk. Suggestions received gratefully.
The orchard cherry tree, which somehow I always forget (probably because the birds always have away with the cherries, is also looking good from the gin terrace (where Lachlan, Lyra and I repaired after lunch to test the new lounger facilities) and the bronze and yellow cherries in the hot garden are out. All we need now is Uncle Leonid and some general angst.
Down by the bottom pond the blue camassia is starting to come out. When raking out some blanket weed I also noticed loads of tadpoles, a positive mass of animated punctuation. In the top pond there were some huge newts and the waterlilies are sending up their leaves.
I also discovered that at precisely 7pm the sun shines down the line of stones in Keith’s “henge”. I am hoping this is telling us it is gin o’ clock rather than time for a virgin sacrifice.