What a long and cold, tedious winter that was. Spring is arriving in The Priory gardens, but I thought I’d buck the seasonal blogging trend of crocuses and primulas and daffodils; and subject you, instead, for a little longer at least, to more snow and wintry scenes. Sorry. And then I promise, I will bid winter a long-overdue, “bye-bye, close the door on your way out and don’t hurry back” farewell. In the meantime, here are some photos from January that I didn’t get round to posting.
From up on the drive, the Priory in its own snow-covered, frost pocket.
Faulty guttering has a benefit.
The east lawn unsullied by this gardener’s footprints.
Unloved (by me) conifers looking better than at any other time of the year.
The frozen, slush-puppy east pond
with duckweed providing a splash of mint-green in an otherwise monochrome landscape.
My favourite oak
and looking back again
before I reach the old footbridge.
Over the bridge and into a corner of the meadow where I have planted a clutch of bamboos (to help hide a wooden, electric power post). Partially flattened by snowfall, they sprang back when I brushed it off with a broom.
The meadow fast asleep and (almost) imperceptibly snoring.
Looking north over the west lawn to the meadow beyond with
the beech-hedge arches behind me.
Apart from the occasional blackbird alarm call – and the crunching of snow under foot – the gardens were silent;
the surrounding fields and woods too.
And then, briefly, the sun prised apart that sombre, gunmetal cloud and ignited the eastern sky. (Oops – there goes my weekly purple prose allowance).
OK, there you go. Enough already. Snow, snow, ice, ice, cold, cold. I think we can all agree that that is quite enough of winter – thank you very much. And anyhow, it’s time to get on with some gardening.
But before I go, I’ll relent. Spring flowers did eventually heed my drumming fingertips. Both these drifts of daffodils are ‘February Gold‘ – flowering here on 11th April.
The garden won’t be rushed.