After inadvertently toasting my Hoya this week, two days of rain have both quenched and spurred the garden.
Poppies are in tatters and the necks of my alliums are bent and in a few cases, sadly, broken. The perky stems of catmint are prostrate, and risk being trodden flat along the pathway.
Morning glory seedlings are unclasping in great numbers, kicking their cloven feet into the sunlight. You can almost hear them talking about the garden, like the seagulls in the movie Finding Nemo: Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. (Not so fast, little fellas. You have me to contend with.)
With the long cool lead-up to Summer 2009, now cusping in warm weather, plus a couple of days of rain with lightning to zap nitrogen out of the air, the garden is saying (as our older daughter used to say): Everybody look at me, everybody! It’s big. It’s bold. It’s lush.
Our Rosa ‘New Dawn’ has never been in such a frenzy of bud, some now showing the edge of their pink knickers. The incipient popcorn explosion that is the hulking great Clematis fargesoides ‘Summer Snow’ is starting to pop. Everything, everything has been inspired to new growth. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.
By the way, I was going to shake out the catmint, but reconsidered. After all that fuss, I thought the bees might prefer to drink the dew.