One of my favourite gardening blog titles is 'Patient Gardener', as that is what I would like to be: a patient gardener. Shame about that, can't have everything I guess.
However, wandering around my garden this warm and sunny spring morning I felt such a sense of progress here, there and everywhere, despite much effort on my part. It was then I realised that I must have been experiencing an unfamiliar bout of patience. So that's what patience feels like... it's a sense of knowing calm, a preparedness to wait, without interfering.
Pleased with the spring progress all around me, I popped inside, grabbed my little pocket camera and found all these little patient virtues enjoying the spring sunshine every bit as much as I was.
|Mr or Ms butterfly posed for many seconds atop a lettuce leaf|
while I fumbled excitedly for the right camera settings. Ta.
|I could have sworn I harvested a big bunch of|
this perpetual spinach plant for our dinner last
Wednesday, but now it looks just as big as ever.
|The brown liquid splodge on this collard green leaf is this|
morning's organic liquid feed. I have a few collard greens
plants steadily growing from the seed sown in early September.
The seeds came with my order of my friend Awia Markey's
'Soulicious' eBook cookery book, so I might as well give it
another plug while I'm at it. Check it out here.
|I'm not sure why my Thai makrut lime looked|
so ordinary all through winter, as it wasn't a
cold winter at all – quite the opposite in fact.
Regular feeds and cutting off the ugly bits has
suddenly borne flowers and fruit this spring.
|Baby Turkish Brown figs have appeared on schedule.|
|So too the next crop of strawberries from the|
self-sprouted patch which came up out of the
compost. Such a healthy plant, these, easily
the most vigorous strawbs I've ever seen here.
|This year I'm limiting tomato production to just a couple of|
pots of cherry tomatoes, raised from seed. After a slow start
they're now 50% bigger than they were last weekend, or so
|Another "sown-from-seed" planting done last autumn, this is|
the first love-in-a-mist (Nigella) flower to come out. Many more
should follow next week, so I'll post something about them once
the full range of colours makes an appearance.
|As usual, the so-called Christmas bush gets its timing|
completely out of whack, colouring up in October.
|The deciduous frangipanis must have been|
leafless for just five or six weeks this year,
their shortest 'winter' ever.