On thistles and a late summer Garden visit

Early morning before the cut. The meadows are golden in the first light, the sun rises lower now and the light is more syrupy. Drowning every spike, tuft and spire. The thistles have won the battle of the wild flowers this year. I can’t remember another year that we have had so many. Still, I like their pinkish purple, fluffy haze. Seeds explode as a tail, held aloft, sways and wafts among the loaded stems.

Elsewhere the hydrangea hedge is in fact a tangle of blackberries. In rooting out the nettles we made more room for them and they’ve taken over. It’s going to be an almighty task to try and regain the upper hand. Mind wanders to blackberry and apple crumbles.

Enough of my garden, I visited Perch Hill a couple of weeks ago, in mid July. It was as inspirational as ever, I never tire of seeing it, so brimful of scent, flowers and garden structures to dream about. Perch Hill is roughly 20 minutes from the Lane and I noted that the aforementioned thistles were just as prevalent there!

Absolutely thrilling colours, as you would expect, but the sheer variety and abundance takes your breath away. Layer after layer of flowers stretching away. Varieties are cleverly showcased in lovely zinc pigeon holes.

The sweet peas were in full swing, imagine having so many to pick! A labour of heavily scented love.

It was hot and fretful the day we visited, the sun was harsh and fiercely hot one moment, sulking behind a pillowy puff ball of a cloud the next. Little did we know that summer was about to disappear under a stubborn grey, mizzle laden sky, that has yet to leave as we head into August.

Inside the greenhouse the pelargoniums were spectacular and the displays of vases, seeds, candles and books were colourised and gorgeous. I loved the beautiful benches and tables too. I’m sorry, I’ve kept you too long with my witterings, thank you for your indulgence.

I’ll leave you here in the greenhouse, much love x