Finding Hope in the Snowdrops
The snowdrops are here. Time to step AWAY from Christmas and the disappointing debris of sherry, stuffing and cold potatoes.
and other things I have discovered
The snowdrops are here. Time to step AWAY from Christmas and the disappointing debris of sherry, stuffing and cold potatoes.
Here is a little Hellebore, the Christmas rose. A useful pit stop for bees, who might need a drop of nectar on a winter flight, and a symbol of serenity. All is well in the garden, with plants quietly getting on with winter. Completely ignored by humans, who are going into a frenzy of ‘creating Christmas no matter what’.
The chickens are about two years old today. This Borage, all dancing flowers and dainty hairs, is supposedly a favourite with chickens. Time they got a treat, for managing to still be here.
The Fuchsia bush is heavy with flowers.
Famous as an antiseptic, a symbol of love and devotion and guaranteed to cause relaxation. Today the bushes hum with the noise of bee traffic. Every local hive has sent an army to scoop up the nectar while it’s there.
August arrives and the sunflowers come marching in. Seedlings become giants overnight, apparently having a competition to see who can grow fastest before bursting into flower. Thousands of sunflower seeds will come next. Maybe I could dry them for chicken food?
Sweet Peas are easy to grow and fill the air with scent. We have a new flower to distribute around the house, in case visitors come and don’t like our smell. Except we don’t have visitors any more. I picked them anyway, filled the house with heavy stinking bunches and immediately triggered an asthma attack. I do this every year. It generally takes 45 minutes to remember they cause potentially deadly wheezing.
Here come the bottlebrush flowers. This Australian bush is a symbol of laughter and joy. There is not much of that from the Australians I know. They should be here by now. Laughter and joy it was, when the garden was full of friends and family from far flung places.
Light research has revealed that all plants have medicinal properties. Google says that honeysuckle is good for everything from dysentery to brain swelling. But the berries are poisonous, so don’t try to cure your brain swelling by eating them. It won’t end well.
The name comes from the Latin word valere, meaning ’to be strong’. Valerian likes burrowing into crumbly walls and splitting them apart. So I follow it around, pulling it up, and it follows me around, growing back again, faster than I can move.
The shabby old sage is flowering and splendid. It is the last remnant of a herb garden, planted long ago in a fit of enthusiasm. It is one thing to plant a herb garden and a whole other thing to remember where you planted it, let alone weeding, watering and knowing what to do with the herbs that survive. That is the trouble with new projects.