Everything is growing like mad. I love to see how once unwanted and unloved corners of the garden have become places where plants are able to find their natural form. In these corners you can have a scent bath of honeysuckle and Rosa rugosa. Then, in two days, when the downpours have put paid to the floating dinnerplates of elderflowers, out will come the Queen of the meadows. Hops are growing through and up into the elder, so twiggy and useless-looking in winter, and pulling the branches, arcing, down to me.

What is that splendid foliage plant with the shimmering silver flowers flourishing under your walnut tree?


About ballsofwool

knitter, mum, thinker
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