Every day, every week, every month comes some
new increment to the achievement here in the
tiny courtyard behind the lock-up.
Plants of all shapes and sizes, whether begged,
borrowed or stolen are all beginning to come together
to form a homogenous whole.
Each plant has it's own special place in the great
scheme of things and it's own little corner of my heart too.
 |
| I knew I'd find a place for them somewhere. |
The three beautiful camelias which I inherited from the
previous owner are getting a bit past their best now
but considering they provided the only hint of colour
in the entire place way back in January I can hardly
complain if they step back and give some of the newer
arrivals a chance to shine.
The white jasmine which I got from the market has
a beautiful perfume especially towards the end of the
afternoon. The hucheras, of which there are many,
are all standing up straight and paying attention and
the sweet peas are beginning to swarm up the string supports
like sailors in the rigging.
However there is one fly in the ointment.
The Kentish hop plant must be sleeping of a beery hangover
because it is very late indeed in putting in it's appearance.
Having nearly broken my neck climbing onto the pergola
to make sure it had the correct hemp strings "to aid its
greyhound like growth" (I am quoting from the brochure
here) it has so far repaid my efforts with one very weedy
little tendril of a rather sickly hue.
We shall see. It's still early days so I think I will
threaten it with being replaced with a Russian vine and
see whether that makes it buck it's ideas up a bit.
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