November… all long, dark nights and frozen days. Or, if you are in my son’s garden, all light and colour. Even clouds of midges over the pond…
It is not exactly what you would expect for this time of year, but with all the work that is still ongoing, months after it began, we were late planting everything. And, in this little corner of the world, summer seems reluctant to depart.
Seeds we had not expected to germinate until next year seem intent on completing a year’s growth in a couple of short months. Seedlings have not only sprouted but are covered in flower buds, racing against time to complete the cycle before the heavy frosts set in.
Rain-drenched roses are blooming beside fat rosebuds, leafless transplants are busily behaving as if it were spring and putting out shoots for all they are worth. The winter-flowering pansies and cyclamen are almost hidden beneath the branches of fuschias weighed down with buds and flowers. You really wouldn’t think it was November.
Even the clematis, accidentally ripped back to below ground level by the landscapers decided to put on a spurt. It has already grown several feet high, clinging on to the climbing rose it was given in lieu of a trellis, and has several buds opening to show the colours of the heart to the world.
There is, so they say, a season for everything, but almost everything in this garden is flowering out of season.
This year, we upset the cycle in this little garden, but Nature has refused to let that stop her from doing her job. Maybe it is the season for Nature to show us just how amazing she really is.