A late arrival

I have been humming a certain tune under my breath for many weeks as the winter dragged on and on and on. I usually think of versions of this song by Ella Fitzgerald or Sarah Vaughan but, following news of her death a few weeks ago, I'd like to play Deanna Durbin singing Spring will be a little late this year.


I thought that the garden would never recover from the long months of rain. I watched in dismay as the topsoil was daily washed down onto the yard below, forming a sludge that had to be removed quickly before it could get into our narrow drains. Local farmers said the crops this year, if they could ever get them planted, would be poor in quality as well as late because the soil's nutrients had been washed away by the floods. Imagine my happy surprise, therefore, when I returned from my peregrinations to find the sun shining and the garden bursting with blooms!  Cue another song:


Here are a few of my garden delights:

 The last of the camellias sit next to the first signs of the magnolia and lilac flowers against a remarkably blue sky.

 Spring flowers are coming into their own at last.

 and the shrubs and apple tree are all in blossom.

I have started to plant up my patio pots, only five weeks later than usual! I had this little companion throughout, almost pushing me away when he caught sight of a worm.

Today, the rain has come back and the temperature has plummeted; gale force winds are forecast for tomorrow. Perhaps our late spring will have lasted for just a few days but it was worth waiting for and perhaps the garden will survive yet again.