From little acorns.....

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Here I am again, tired and aching in every muscle I didn’t know I possessed and about to crawl up to bed…but, I must write and tell you before I do that what I have been up to today, because its exciting …. well it is to me anyway! I started on the garden, tidying it up here and there and looking to see where along ‘The Fence’ I am going to plant out my Natives…lots of choice really, one long line, 150 foot or so to choose from up against 6 foot of barren planking and concrete, its a no-brain-er in respect of the sun/shade aspect as its ALL in shade now…the whole bl**dy garden, that is all except for one tiny little spot at the end of my brick-built sheds (along the opposite boundary on the left); there exists an oasis, a golden pooling of today’s sunshine in that spot just big enough for three garden chairs sat side-by-side starting from under my HUGE Jasmine there three chair widths across and ending by the border where I have the buddlia which I cut down in late September ready for its growth spurt in the spring.a bush with yellow buttercup flowers just opening and the fig tree. There was also a mature but dead unidentified bush in the border in front of the buddlia that had silvery oval-shaped leaves when it was alive and if I remember rightly it had tiny white flowers – it was originally planted by my son some 12 or so years ago and was hit by the bad frosts of last year and subsequently died as did many other peoples’ plants/shrubs/trees, I gathered as I listened to my weekly Saturday morning fix of Gardeners Question Time on BBC Essex. Even the experts on the show had lost some of their mature plantings, we were told….

So, today I made a start out there, trying to dig a border that is almost non-existent and overgrown, neat but overgrown and some of the overgrowth (if that’s a proper term) was the dreaded elder trees that keep trying to spring up everywhere where it is not wanted. three, fifteen foot poles straight as a dye, saplings with a froth of leaves on top and nothing else below it. Not a pretty sight all leggy and slender, straight up and down like a catwalk model. I wish it would grow up the back of the garden where once stood a rather medium-sized old elder tree, nicely wizened its bark deeply ingrained and twisted into that strange pattern elder alone seems to possess, but my goodness old she may have been but did she ever bear me some lovely fruits over the years and beautiful flowers bracs, I think they are called, almost as large as dinner plates! Unfortunately, she overshadowed the neighbour’s garden that runs at right-angles to mine up there and I think he had a hand in her demise, but I cannot really say, it may have just been age. I was sorry to loose her because she is the Mother Tree and I have always been told its unlucky to cut her down. Beloved of the Goddess and to us witches, she seems to exasperate me in my garden and her children spring up in the most inconvenient of places. For example between the houses foundations and fence right across my neighbours’ central heating boiler vent! She has to be chopped back to within an inch of her life there, obviously, as there is a very real danger of carbon monoxide poisoning, and to add insult to injury is also taking the light from their kitchen window by growing over it, but always she manages to come back stronger after hacking down and taller with each growth spurt….but I digress….

Today, I spent four hours of back-breaking work trying to dig along my side of The Fence’s boundary to put in my 40 Natives only to find roots like a network of fine cabling or coir matting underneath. Nice soil though, deep and dark and rich like a Christmas pudding, the well rotted goodness of all the now non-existent trees that were hacked down behind the Fence two months ago left their black gold legacy in my border there – well rotted leaf litter. But also left behind their root systems and it was so very hard to get through it – the system of ground ivy that flourished under the willow left this network behind nearer the surface and below that the tree roots. I forked into it first to break through then used the spade, even resorting to the branch loppers to cut through tree roots left behind like dead-man’s fingers buried in the earth a foot down, and twice as thick!

Eventually, I managed to dig a smallish trench deep enough to take some of my bare root Natives but only managed in all that time to dig a foot and half down by about five foot in length and plant out four in that trench, four in another trench nearer opposite the sheds and one in the border where I cut down the dead bush. I didn’t have the strength to dig more than a foot down beside it and it was impossible for me to dig out the dead bush’s smallish stumps. I still have thirty one Natives to go in! Fortunately, I do have my last three days holiday tomorrow, Tuesday and Wednesday and provided I can still walk by then, well, I just get to do it all over again and although I am only planting hawthorns, blackthorns and Rosa Rugosa’s at the moment, these little twigs are my ‘little acorns’ that I hope will one day flourish and grow into sturdy supports, not only for the benefit of the wildlife, to replace what they have lost by the actions of the new neighbour’s handyman/fencer, but also to become a natural framework for other native ramblers and climbers to weave their way through it all and stitch it together into a fascinating patchwork quilt of colour, scents and textures throughout the seasons. However, at the moment its a race against time, daylight hours being so short and dark nights drawing rapidly in, I really need to get a move on, try to dig this trench along a 100 foot or so of compacted, root riddled earth most of it now going under the canopy of a huge old willow next door where its roots are no doubt stretched across under my ground its much drier there – tomorrow I feel its going to just get tougher.

My ‘little acorns’ are waiting up in the greenhouse tonight, nestled in their plastic compost sacks watered their roots covered in soil from my garden, waiting their turn to be snuggled into the still warmish earth, slumbering away until the time is right to get a move on and grow. Their nine comrades who have already been planted out have bubble-wrap tenderly tucked around their bases and over their heads right down to their feet is a soft white blanket as light as a whisper, a duvet of fleece covering them to protect them from the first night of frost forecast by the weathermen for my neck of the woods…after that, well, I guess I must just keep them warm and comfy until the spring….I have no idea how long I must keep them coddled like this, to give them the best chance of survival through what could be a harsh winter, but hopefully they will come through it and reward me and my garden and the wildlife with years of pleasure and protection. As always your suggestions and tips are greatly appreciated! :^) Love Michelle xx

• 11 Nov, 2012
• 6 likes

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