Very little happened today — nor will happen for the next couple of days, so let’s see what can be done with the creative juices. This shot comes from my playing with the zoom lens in the garden. Would it be better without the second plant in the background? I like the juxtaposition of the two.
Joe finished his GCSE exams a couple of weeks ago and so now, like all the UK’s 15-16 year olds, has an extended summer holiday, interrupted only insofar as his parents nag him to do things to get him out of the house. Attending part of the annual allotment summer tidy up (July is inspection month) didn’t seem to enthuse him much though. But the redcurrants are ready to eat (all six of them).
And you thought all bees lived in hives, correct? Well, apparently not. Some bees are solitary and if one wants to be nice to them, building a little place like this in the secluded corner of a garden is one way to do it; they like nesting in the tubes. None seem to be at home today in this one that my in-laws have set up, however.
Despite the lack of encouraging conditions, some of the foliage is giving it a go. It can’t be easy under the monsoon, probably our equivalent of crawling out from under the duvet at 6.30am in February. Hence the ragged look of this bloom.
After last year’s glut, our plums are going to have one of their years off, this is obvious already. But there are dozens of these little babies on the branches of the apple tree. Come back to us in September for the harvest.
These seeds are ready to fly; the next windy day, they’ll be gone. You have to admire the simple efficiency of the pattern. The seeds remain individual and can all escape, but no space is wasted, no more could be fitted on. Like so many other things in nature, the perfect match of form and function.
This tulip is open and ready for business. Come and get it with those hairy stamens right now baby. Or so to speak.
My unexciting week continues, but at least I got up to the allotment, where this earthworm seemed surprised at suddenly finding itself atop a slope of plastic, namely, the compost barrel. And, you know, it managed to climb up it, over the edge, and drop back into the rotting food bounty below. Which, on smooth plastic, is not bad going for what is essentially a piece of ligament.
I know I’m anthropomorphosising, but please tell me you see this bumblebee’s grumpy little face… long nose, protuberant jaw, etc. It’s like, “I know it was a nice sunny day today, but bloody hell is it early in the year to get up.” However… respect the pollinators, that’s what we have to do….
Having eulogised the plums and blackberries already this year — and for good reason — let us also add the glorious amount, and richness, of 2018’s apples as well — not to mention a second good crop of rhubarb. In this aspect, no one can complain about the year.
