By now you must be sick of the never ending tales of my Gardening antics , the blooming ever invading Triffid sized weed,s , wasps the like,s of spitfires, coffee swigging Ants and over sexed pigeons, who are at it in amongst the undergrowth from dusk to dawn . But it really is a never ending source of wonder, ( for me anyhow)This week I saw a whole new species of Bee, ( I thought I had encountered nearly all by now, ) This one was different , big , but Not as large as our Bumbles, or then again as small as the harmless massionary Bee,s… it,s body longer , eyes larger and he didn’t buzz , He sat on the Jasmine plant behind me moving his body almost, I liked to fancy as if He was twerking …( Well he could have been ! !!!!) We sat in our companionship , him twerking away and me drinking my third vat of coffee for the day, I took his picture and decided to name my new found friend Buzby, .
some months back while weeding , sprouting mysteriously and totally out of place I spotted the early beginnings of a weedy rose plant, ( it looks of the tea rose variety ) I say weedy as besides it’s thug like weed cousins it looked pathetic , but I once spotted I could not ignore its presence, how it had managed to grow through a membrane, a ton of slate was nothing if not miraculous, each time I took out the rubbish I was careful not to walk over it, weeding around it to give it chance to grow, over weeks I began to increase my plants, filling the borders with Geraniums, Dianthus, lavender and scattering seeds to fill in the gaps, Each time I watered and fed the plants, I found myself saving some to take to the tiny rose…
it really was no more than three inches tall, two weak stems and some pale green leaves , I worried the membrane and shingle hampered its growth, So one weekend while weeding I decided to take matters in my own hands, ( I was going to dig up the beginings of this tiny rose seedling and transfer it to the border… I know it sounds daft but I worried as I did it, I had grown fond of my wee charge, And it’s commitment to live, despite cold weather, weeds , membrane,s and shingle, it was doing it’s best, And I had committed myself likewise to assisting its progress, I dug as carefully as I could, scared of damaging the frail roots , I dug as far away from the actual plant as I could, ….the nearer I got to freeing it ,the more I worried was I actually doing the right thing, was it not maybe happy enough in its poor soil growing sheltered amongst its sheltered weed infested corner….but I carried on and eventually achieved my goal….it came free with as much root as I could retrieve….
I dug it a hole in amongst my already by now established plants , filled it with plant food to give it the best possible chance I could, as I back filled it into place again I hoped my kindly interfering hadn’t in fact meant certain doom and gently patted soil about it,s frail little stems, ( it did in fact show it’s displeasure by getting me with one of its many thorns, my plant maybe frail but it can bite lol , the next morning I rushed out to check it’s progress as I fed my birds, And I was delighted to see it hasn’t wiltered, none the worse for wear,
I had to almost feel sorry for all my other plants, they grew daily from what was once tiny little plug plants just beginning, to now rich leafy, filled with promise of many beautiful blossoms to come, I noted their vim, vigour , new steady growth. but still it was the tiny rose I cheered on daily, ….about a week after I replanted it out , we had a rather hot spell , I watered twice daily, now, always making sure the rose was ok, but my fears became real, it’s leaves shrivelled in the heat, they became crisp and brittle, the plant began to wilter and I felt immediately sad, ( it had tried so hard to live) And my interference had indeed hampered its efforts , yes I know to anyone reading this , to any in fact sane ,normal person it was just a rose bush( or the promise of one) but when you live totally alone, you begin to reach out to anything living, it’s life is entangled with your own, like the pigeons, blackbirds, finches, bee,s and ants, they are part of my puzzle, life….
I watered the wee plant extra, cutting back any now dead growth, it looked a sorry state and I really didn’t hold out any hope, all around it things burst into a triumphant mass of colour, corals, pinks, white and red, the lavenders doubled in size , purple spikes covering the grey green stems, Bees droned lazily on hot summers afternoons as they fed, but for all the beauty it was when I started seeing the first new leaves on that tiny rose that felt a renewed interest , it sparked my imagination, if it could grow against all the odd,s , in fact double its size within weeks, then I felt ashamed, because here I was not thriving myself, I was merely existing, just getting by, long haul Covid, other illness had taken its toll, but I am still indeed living , breathing, I’m alive, while my health takes turns for the worst some days others I grow and bounce back, I get why I identified so strongly with the tiny rose , it grew in the most hostile of places, no shelter, amongst hard stony ground, from nothing it became a living thing, it didn’t matter it now share,s a home amongst those beautiful blossoms, it can hold its own, without any flowers, I’m intrigued to see if it will indeed at some point bud, but if it doesn’t so what it has its spot in my garden, it belongs, And that’s all any of us long for, is to be a part of something,
I share this tiny patch with many forms of life, none of it human, but it’s bustling, it’ changes daily , and as I tend it, water it , feed it, it does likewise to me, it feeds my very imagination, And while loneliness still takes its toll, I’m surrounded by wonder and mother natures beauty , we miss so much as we go about busy lives, if like myself you get a moment , go sit among nature, watch how she surrounds and brings you into the life around you, as I sat outside tonight, it wasn’t the twinkling fairy lights, the sounds of cars, bikes, people that I noted, but as the remains of the day still heated the earth , it was the Warm scent,s of Clove from the Dianthus, soft sweet soft perfume from the bell like Petunias, musky lavender that filled my senses, moths fluttering about my head, clouds drifting lazily in the inky sky, they feed my soul and give strength and wonder, if you look hard enough life is happening all around you, it’s willing to share if you just let it, stay well folks and take care of you ……xx
My American Man In Purple Lace Corsets 