Sometimes when I look at my garden...er, no, make that every time I look at my garden--I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of utter futility. For all the hours spent weeding and planting and lugging soil, and all the achy muscles afterward, after 15 years it still often looks like I'm only getting started.
To keep from being completely disheartened, I put on blinkers and look for the patches that are achieving that close-packed, cottage-garden atmosphere that I'm laboriously trying to achieve. This was a particularly useful exercise this weekend since everybody has been flattened by a particularly vicious cold and no work could be done at all.
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| This sedum has filled in a rocky niche in the front garden. |
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| The sunrose is twining among assorted variegated perennials. |
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| For a limited time only, the flowers are cooperating in putting on a pastel fireworks display. |
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| Calendula and visitor |
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| Two-spotted ladybug (no, really, that's its name!) on caterpillar-nibbled leaf |
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| These birds, sent to me by my friend W. after my father's death, appear both smug and snug about their little house with its sedum-planted front yard. |
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| Of course, they have their own bookshop. Otherwise how else would they be able to get "Peeple" magazine? They don't have a Twitter account, so they can only tweet, not Tweet. |
