Some serious weeding and trimming is needed at the home front, but the lush wildness was a welcome contrast to the ultra-urban last week of our holiday.
The choisiya blooms spill rampantly into the pond by the guest cottage, the saxifrage’s pink flowers frothing nearby, the bed filled in by grasses, chameleon euphorbia, and anchored around the back and sides by viburnum, rhododendron, and a favourite Japanese maple.
What may be my favourite clematis ever for the way it has finally fulfilled my imaginary projections, the Jersey Cream climbs the trunk of the arbutus that forms the core of our central bed.
A huge fern, certainly decades old, sprawls at its base while the cornflower centaurea cyanus calls to bees from miles around. The cornflower stems are all flopping drastically after recent rains and will have to be lopped right back, but their blooms were a pleasant welcome nonetheless.
The purple sage really must be replaced, its woody stems breaking off in its old, old age — probably 15 years old now — yet every year it rallies and I just can’t bear to dig it out.
Especially now that its deep shades are so nicely echoed by the giant allium globes. These bulbs have naturalized spectacularly, and have spread themselves around the yard to the point where they’re looking suspiciously like weeds. But dramatic, pretty weeds, so they get to stay as well.
You may want to click away from me now. I understand. I’m going on and on, showing view after view. But I just can’t resist. I was so happy to be breathing my garden in again that every shot seemed perfect, every image a joy.
Sadly, it hasn’t been warm enough since we’ve been back to sit outside, but there’s too much tidying up for sitting to be a good idea anyway. . . .
The roses are just coming up to bloom time here, a huge relief to me as they bloomed throughout our time in France and I worried I would miss their glorious performance in my garden.
This hansa (a hardy rugosa rose) blooms on a rather scrubby plant, but its colour, shape, fragrance, and, above all, hardiness and healthiness, make it a real boon, especially now that Pater’s learning to prune properly and has brought needed air to all my roses. This particular plant has a sister at the front of the yard, seaside — the seaside plant was the one we bought so many years ago from a wonderful nursery on Hornby Island. Our last Golden Retriever broke it, as a very new planting, in her rambunctious puppy-ness. I took the broken stem and stuck it in a decent rose hole — and it took! In fact, this rescued plant is now much more substantial than its parent, thanks to a more protected location.
Here’s the view we saw as we walked into our yard Thursday morning, except that Pater has mowed the lawn since then — enough grass to feed several cows!
In a few weeks, the Royal Sunset will be blooming in tandem with the pink spray of this dark elderberry bush — a riot of purple, pink, orange, and green. A two-week festival I look forward to avidly!
By the seaside, Mother Nature harrumphs, showing what she can do without any gardener’s assistance, thank you very much. Well, not quite true — we do prune back the Nootka roses a bit, but these honeysuckle, probably remnants of our predecessors’ planting some 20 years ago, are left alone, and the white-flowering brambles merely get trimmed to stay out of the regular garden. Mother N does well, no?
There you go — a little tour of my garden. We’re off, now, to run the nearby Island. The paths through the woods and along the sea will make for a much different run than we did along Bordeaux’s Promenade Fluviale . . .
And you, what are you up to today?
*sigh* my favorite place on earth this time of year. If Z and J were getting married in the the spring, their colours would have to be white and purple! Looking good Mom and Dad.
Purple really does rule here in the spring. You should pop over . .
These views of your garden look so different from the ones I am used to seeing, your garden looks very large. How lovely that you are in time for the roses. Our Royal Sunset is blooming now and most of the garden roses are about to begin their summertime showings.
We're usually a week or two behind your gardens — but the Royal Sunset is just now blooming, and I'm so pleased to see it!
The garden's bigger than a city lot, but I think the photos are deceptive. It's not so large . . .
I had to call Doug over to look at these stunning shots. What an absolute joy your garden must be, even with the work involved.
It's really satisfying, as you know from playing with yours over the past couple of years. I'm enjoying mine ever so much more since Paul's semi-retirement as he can help out with much of the maintenance.
What a beautiful garden! I like that it has such a natural feel to it.
Thanks, Nancy. Natural can be a bit of a euphemism, obviously, which I take full advantage of! It lets me off the hook . . . a more manicured garden is so much more work.
Your garden is simply beautiful and oddly, considering the miles that separate it from mine in North Wales, there are ways in which it has echoes of mine (mine probably has more weeds though!). It is the purples and grey greens I think and the gentle naturalistic planting. Stunning and how good to come home to that!
I suspect our climates have a lot in common — moderate temperatures, rain. You have the hillside and we have the salt air, but we've got a similar approach, definitely. Your garden is so much larger, of course, and is looking absolutely spectacular!
The love of your garden shines so brightly in your writing and your photos. Welcome home.
Thanks, Melanie. It really does feed my spirit.
Thank you for the tour! I never tire of your garden posts. You must be very happy to be home.
You're very welcome! And yes, I'm glad to be back home, although France me manque
Your garden must have been a welcome sight to come home to. All the blue and white and green – so lush and pretty. I'm glad your roses waited for your return.
Today I cleaned house, baked bread (started it), puttered in the garden and did a little necessary shopping. A good day, satisfying.
That does sound very satisfying a day, indeed. Paul's got some bread rising right now and we've garden-puttered together. No house-cleaning yet, but much laundry . . .
Your garden is just astonishing. I adore that clematis. How wonderful to have so much greenery.
Isn't that a great clematis? It's really just coming into its own after quite a few years during which I willed it to work its way up that arbutus trunk. . .
So lush and romantic, almost like a fairy tale house one comes upon in the woods. Hope you will have ample time to enjoy it before returning to a routine.
Thanks! The lists were writing themselves as I walked in the door, but I'm trying to build some garden time into the schedule.