I love the neglected corners of our garden. Who am I kidding- the whole thing’s neglected. But I’d rather do a spot of weeding in my PJs, or after work, than spend my Sundays at the garden centre.
Various flora poke through the cracks amongst the moss. The odd plant, bought on the drive home from a mini adventure, thrives with a little water from the can (minus it’s rose and clogged up with snails, but still working!)
The neighbours lay on a feast of a bird table, and we offer our own feast with the many bugs trundling about our back yard. I always considered our garden to be pretty small, but when life is on a small scale, it seems full of riches.
The brick path is a forest of California poppies, and the sweet peas are blooming bounteously, despite their tangled mess. Alpine strawberries made a surprise appearance this year and trail around the bottom of the roses by the bug hotel. Later in the year the field behind the house will offer up bundles of blackberries, which the neighbours cats gingerly pick their paws over.
With so much happening at work, it’s nice to spend time in a place that demands very little attention. Sure, I often sit here planning what else I’d like to do. But it’s good to see that the garden is still pretty happy with a bit of fond neglect.