>Gardens are all about the senses. Colours, scents, textures. Blues and yellows, herbs and flowers, spikes and shrubs.
Well, those are the obvious ones.
Then there are the less obvious ones. The smell of rain on the paving in the courtyard, the look of black, fully decomposed mulch or the feel of airy, light, soil that has been warmed by the summer sun.
Where does this come from? Well, yesterday afternoon as I was sowing the rosemary seeds I suddenly felt transported back to the days of summer; the smell of the soil on my hands and the feeling of the tiny seeds that rolled around in the cup of my hand… Ah! Summer will be here eventually, but until then I will take every chance I get to re-live it; every scent, feel or image.
It’s intoxicating to even think about the way summer explodes the sensory boundaries in a way that winter just can’t. Winter is darkness, chill on your skin, the smell of frosty air; a sensual experience in it’s own subtle way, but so much more sedate than the exuberance of summer.
In other news, on Saturday there’s an entrepreneur coming by to have a look at the garden for the drainage. I look forward to hearing his thoughts about it, and of course even more to get his quote, though that will probably be in the following week. I’m really excited and hope that he will also be able to give me some cue as to when he suspects that it can be done. I really hope that it could be before Easter, as that would give us the chance to spend out Easter break planting stuff and sowing stuff and generally doing stuff in the garden. The Ambitious Border could be prepared before the drainage is installed, but as the main well would need to be located more or less in the middle of the vegetable garden, that can’t be started before the drainage is in the ground.
Oh, the hopes and dreams.
>Lovely thoughts Soren, I also am itching for Spring and Summer. Hope your entrepreneur isn't too much of one.
>He's a friend of a friend, so hopefully he will be perfectly fine…