the garden in july
this post contains affiliate linksDon’t be fooled by the confident sounding title – excellent - here she is about to impart all her horticultural wisdom! The reality is, at this point you could fit the sum total of my newly acquired gardening knowledge on the back of a seed packet… but everyone starts something as a novice so here we are.
What I am learning is that, in gardening terms, July is a quiet month with not a lot happening. Unless you count the constant nightly watering as we navigate this hot summer with its recurring heatwaves. The grass went crispy and brown weeks ago and I know that like elsewhere in the UK, we’ll soon be on a hosepipe ban. I have become that person who mutters about keeping her hydrangeas alive, how the olive tree is doing, just how much sun does the Cosmos like and don’t worry, it will rain eventually. On Sunday, there was an oh so brief shower of rain that lasted all of five minutes. I dashed to stand out in it barefoot and inhaled the glorious scent of petrichor whilst realising that during a hot summer, you can even learn to romanticise the rain.
When I say there hasn’t been a lot to do in the garden, I mean there hasn’t been a lot for me. Patrick created another border by taking up the stones and weed matting, digging over the soil and planting in lavender (Hidcote variety), tall Verbena, some herbs and yet more of my Cosmos babies. Digging jobs are out for me due to back issues – although I hope that won’t be the case on a permanent basis. So I expect, does he. But I’ve been making a point of just being out there, enjoying the fruits of all the spring planting. Some of the Cosmos are now really tall and have finally started to flower and the three small Verbena plants we bought at a local market are happily taking over the other border. We’re hoping that over the years both borders will become full of spiller plants that gracefully drape their fronds over, softening the edges of the small lawn space.
Having seen some Vibernum at the Dorset Brocante fair in May, I fell in love with their fluffy white-headed snowball blooms. So we’ve added a few here and there and are crossing fingers that they’ll flower next spring whilst we wait for the hydrangeas to appear later on. Speaking of which, our Strong Annabelles have already started to turn green – I’m fairly sure this is earlier than last year, and I guess, due to the intense heat. At least they’re still alive, if a little raggedy around the edges now. Another new addition this summer has been some Mexican feather grass - it’s tall, wispy and moves beautifully in the lightest of breezes. I’m hatching a plan to get a couple more to dot around the new borders to help fill them out.
The herbs have been doing brilliantly in the heat - we’ve had a constant supply of rosemary, thyme, sage, mint, lemon balm, chives and oregano for cooking. What is it about going out into the garden and gathering snippings of plants from sun-warmed terracotta pots to help season a meal that induces so much joy? The same can be said for sitting outside for a quiet morning coffee, hiding from the heat of early sun under an umbrella and pausing for five minutes before starting the day. On the flip side, an evening glass of chilled Rose and a bowl of olives has become an enjoyable full stop and part of summer routines that are balm for the soul and will be missed in the colder months. Not that I can remember what the cold feels like anymore!
If you follow me on Instagram, you might seen the regular appearance of our resident blackbird family. First there was just the male, Basil. I know… I am desperately dog-deficient so don’t blame me for naming the garden wildlife. He arrives on the fence with a thwack every morning to make his presence known and then hops onto the deck to await his quota of blueberries and strawberry tops. He’s become very tame and will get super close for food – Patrick walked into the living room one morning to find he’d hopped over the back door threshold and was casually making his way across the floor – I’m guessing towards the fridge in kitchen where his berry stash is kept! Sometimes he’ll just hangout under the garden table in the shade, popping his head to one side, casually observing me with his beady blackbird eyes, delicately rimmed with orange. I can’t help thinking that having him around is Biscuit’s way of continuing to make her presence felt – a concept possibly a little kooky for some, but it helps on the days when the ache of missing her takes over. And now Basil brings his family to the garden too. The sedate, watchful mother and always-hungry, fluffy baby tend to stay further away and wait for morsels to be thrown out onto the grass. Having them around has been one of my favourite things this summer.
When the temperature has risen to unbearable indoor levels, we’ve been sitting out until late, enjoying the marginally cooler air before reluctantly heading up to a stuffy bedroom. If I could have a bed (and some giant form of a mosquito tent), in the garden I honestly think I would sleep outside this year! Instead, I’ve slowly grown accustomed to being lulled to sleep by the whirring of a fan and laying under just a linen throw or the duvet cover with no duvet inside.
Okay… I’ll whisper it but I am starting to imagine the joy of a cold night that necessitates a full duvet again. As I remind myself daily to soak in this summer, go with the heat and try to relish all the outdoor living opportunities it brings; I’m also secretly nurturing my inner excitement for the slow turn towards autumn. After all, isn’t anticipating what comes next one of life’s small pleasures?
the garden in july
