Still Exuberantly Colourful

Everything in the garden continues to look reasonably fresh and bright, yet time is running out for this year's garden. I had decided, in the interests of temporary longevity, to give everything a good soaking yesterday, and watered the gardens and the garden pots somewhat to excess, including the ornamental trees. And rather unsurprisingly, we had overnight frost on the roofs. Not quite ground frost, but a gentle warning. I gathered all the ripe plum tomatoes this morning, leaving some still on the vine, to ripen further.

I can hardly believe the swiftness of this summer's passage. But then, it's likely I, and everyone else feels the same way, already nostalgic for the early days of spring discovery when the bulbs were just beginning to raise themselves, and all gardeners were excitedly looking forward to another season of sumptuous flowering that would knock us off our pins and cause us to bore non-gardeners with emailed photographs of our wonderful gardens. Of course we have those photographs to nudge wan memories during the winter months when we grieve the loss of exciting garden discoveries.

As it is we can wander the gardens, admire the still-blooming yellow roses, the pink, the red roses, determined to bloom as long as they can, defiant of the approaching season; they echo our thoughts. But on a more practical level, preparations are required to plan the process of putting the garden to bed. Damaged rose cones to be replaced with new ones to protect the roses overwinter. Compostable bags to be prepared to take the bulk of the perennials to be cut down neatly so spring can commence with its new growth.

And bulbs, tulip and daffodil bulbs, and lots of them, to encourage my efforts to find suitable places where they can be dug in. And also lots of new grape hyacinths as well to border the gardens that haven't already been planted with them. So I can forget about them throughout the winter months, and then be suitably amazed when they miraculously break through the springtime garden soil when nothing else has yet gathered itself to make the effort.