I woke up early this morning just before dawn and lay in the gathering light, listening to the bird sing and breathing in the damp clean air that smelt and tasted of childhood holidays in summer. A gentle drizzle has been falling all day, and the garden is lush and green and glimmering, wearing the droplets of rain like jewels. Before my coffee, I planted rows of yellow climbing beans in the veggie patch and trained their grasping tendrils around their canes, patting their roots into the damp soil and tucking the loose earth around them.
Some pictures that I took last night, before the rain.
The veggie patch. On the left, from nearest to furthest: sweetpea canes, over-wintered endive lettuces, beetroot (grown mostly for leaves), peas, strange random leafy vegetable (that was supposed to be rocket but isn't and has come up again from what I failed to dig out last year when I cleared the ground), spinach; behind the spinach are rows of salad leaves, heritage carrots, rainbow chard and spinach; raspberry canes; various fruit bushes and rhubarb, and right at the back of the patch, runner bean canes. And then on the right, from furthest to nearest: peas under fleece; supports for yellow climbing beans, flowering asparagus, rows of parsnip seedlings; supports for borlotti beans (looking very sad at the moment; I think they are shocked by cold), and membrane laid down ready for squash, sweetcorn and tomatoes.
The flower bed above my courtyard. Lavender, sweetpeas, catmint, geraniums, and pots of various spring bulbs that are dying back.
The path from the courtyard up to the garden, with snaking hose that I was using to water the veggies with last night.
Flowers in the courtyard, and the beans waiting to be planted. I am particularly happy with the way the clematis in the pot is scrambling up into the yew tree and pyracanthus and am really looking forward to it flowering; last year it had amazing white blooms, blousey and elaborate, like old-fashioned ballgowns. I love my aquilegia too.