Everything under the sun
AT such a drab and dreary time of year, when life is being dominated by dispiriting politics, both at home and abroad, the recent snap of sharp, crystallising frosts that herald bright, clear days has bathed the countryside in an uplifting glow.
On Sunday, once the hard, sugary coating encasing the sprawling garden of our new home on the Dorset/somerset border had thawed, I couldn’t resist the urge to get out into the sunshine and start embellishing the flower beds. Although snowdrops are out and daffodil tips bravely forging skyward, we need to introduce form and structure with the aid of evergreen shrubs.
We ventured to the local garden centre—in the grounds of Sherborne Castle—where, among neat rows of spring bulbs, shyly clustering violas and cheerful rainbows of primulas, we found lavender, rosemary and bay, along with a couple of native primroses with delicate, buttery-yellow blooms.
Back at home, as the light began to fade, I worked quickly to get all the plants in the ground before Jack Frost returned. It was practically dark when I stood back to admire my handiwork and reflect on how Nature’s ability to survive and thrive, year after year, no matter what we—or the weather— throw at it, is such an enormous comfort. PL