Love the beekeeping hunt president. Our wilderness garden seems not to have drawn any comment -- long may it continue, but that kind of pressure to conform can be so insidious.
As for Spring -- I long for it, love it, yet still miss the hibernating months -- all at once ;)
Maybe I was making a - what's the phrase? – false dichotomy or dualism there: both/and is a more fruitful paradigm, isn't it? As I age, I love more and more about each season and month and turning point.
Yes absolutely! I'm much less b&w in my thinking than I used to be. I remember my Zen teacher talking about situationist ethics, and how I resisted it; but have understood the nuances of the Middle Way more and more as I age.
It absolutely is; dawn and dusk in particular. Our whole holding is quite magical, though the land around it is not as beautiful as Huelgoat and its forest, about which I've written at length, as you know.
I had to smile at this essay Roselle, Spring is rather exhausting, for so many reasons but it will never be so many as to kill the joy of those first warm days for me..."Your hedge, probably a laurel one, is trimmed to within perfectly-measured millimetres in every plane." This is exactly my neighbour but there are so many more similar gardens and perfectly trimmed hedges... and the midway between haircuts too, this is the stage my two meadows are always at! I don't mow them, my sheep are in charge of this, however, firstly there is too much for them to east so they pick and choose, and secondly ring barking the trees is a far more enjoyable meal... they end up looking very shaggy and unkempt permanently! x
I guess you mean the meadows are shaggy and unkempt, not the sheep, Susie?! - Am I right in thinking sheep can really only cope with short turfy grass?
And - what happened in the end with the young ram (?) from last year? x
Haha, yes I did Roselle, although its shearing time so in fact 'shaggy' applies to both at the moment! Soon to be remedied though. And no, they prefer short grass, mine as as tall as they are, so they are eating leaves and clover instead.
I still have him, he refused to stay in the field where they'd all been slaughtered, so he went on holiday to stay with my friends ewes. He stayed there for five months by which time the memory of what happened was no longer. I bought two new ewes and he returned with an orphaned lamb from my friends flock, so they are four, and happy, and very well fenced in although I know it wouldn't stop two St Bernards if they really wanted to break through, short of a ten foot stone wall, nothing would! x
Your description of the local approach to garden design is very accurate. I think it may partly be due to lack of time and money where we live but, yes, the penchant for lime green or lilac plastic pots, membrane, coloured gravel and whimsical ornaments is evident. I know we are considered eccentric in our commune because of the time we spend in our (comparatively) tiny garden. Gardening like that here is a form of resistance
… And long may that resistance continue! - Actually I think any kind of eco-growing, especially with a tendency towards self-sufficiency, is one of the most effective strategies of our time to offset in its small way capitalism and industrial agriculture. Thanks for commenting, Barbara. x
Your description of manicured laurel hedges struck a chord. Our neighbours do the same and we have no control over that but our hedge of quince, buddleia and bramble we leave resolutely wild and tall. I used to feel guilt but now I just feel I’m on the side of the insects and birds and that matters way more.
Love the beekeeping hunt president. Our wilderness garden seems not to have drawn any comment -- long may it continue, but that kind of pressure to conform can be so insidious.
As for Spring -- I long for it, love it, yet still miss the hibernating months -- all at once ;)
Maybe I was making a - what's the phrase? – false dichotomy or dualism there: both/and is a more fruitful paradigm, isn't it? As I age, I love more and more about each season and month and turning point.
it's interesting how we can live in paradox more with age :)
Yes absolutely! I'm much less b&w in my thinking than I used to be. I remember my Zen teacher talking about situationist ethics, and how I resisted it; but have understood the nuances of the Middle Way more and more as I age.
The woodland going down to the stream looks quite enchanting, or rather, enchanted. I imagine it’s magical to be there at early dawn.
Hello Chris
It absolutely is; dawn and dusk in particular. Our whole holding is quite magical, though the land around it is not as beautiful as Huelgoat and its forest, about which I've written at length, as you know.
I think you'd love it here.
I had to smile at this essay Roselle, Spring is rather exhausting, for so many reasons but it will never be so many as to kill the joy of those first warm days for me..."Your hedge, probably a laurel one, is trimmed to within perfectly-measured millimetres in every plane." This is exactly my neighbour but there are so many more similar gardens and perfectly trimmed hedges... and the midway between haircuts too, this is the stage my two meadows are always at! I don't mow them, my sheep are in charge of this, however, firstly there is too much for them to east so they pick and choose, and secondly ring barking the trees is a far more enjoyable meal... they end up looking very shaggy and unkempt permanently! x
I guess you mean the meadows are shaggy and unkempt, not the sheep, Susie?! - Am I right in thinking sheep can really only cope with short turfy grass?
And - what happened in the end with the young ram (?) from last year? x
Haha, yes I did Roselle, although its shearing time so in fact 'shaggy' applies to both at the moment! Soon to be remedied though. And no, they prefer short grass, mine as as tall as they are, so they are eating leaves and clover instead.
I still have him, he refused to stay in the field where they'd all been slaughtered, so he went on holiday to stay with my friends ewes. He stayed there for five months by which time the memory of what happened was no longer. I bought two new ewes and he returned with an orphaned lamb from my friends flock, so they are four, and happy, and very well fenced in although I know it wouldn't stop two St Bernards if they really wanted to break through, short of a ten foot stone wall, nothing would! x
Your description of the local approach to garden design is very accurate. I think it may partly be due to lack of time and money where we live but, yes, the penchant for lime green or lilac plastic pots, membrane, coloured gravel and whimsical ornaments is evident. I know we are considered eccentric in our commune because of the time we spend in our (comparatively) tiny garden. Gardening like that here is a form of resistance
… And long may that resistance continue! - Actually I think any kind of eco-growing, especially with a tendency towards self-sufficiency, is one of the most effective strategies of our time to offset in its small way capitalism and industrial agriculture. Thanks for commenting, Barbara. x
Your description of manicured laurel hedges struck a chord. Our neighbours do the same and we have no control over that but our hedge of quince, buddleia and bramble we leave resolutely wild and tall. I used to feel guilt but now I just feel I’m on the side of the insects and birds and that matters way more.
Oh yes, Lynne! And am of course completely with you - what REALLY matters? - Thank you for commenting.