Salads all year round?

At any given moment, I've usually got several stray thoughts floating around the back of my head. Half-formed sentences waft around, searching for something to hang on to, waiting to coalesce into fully fledged, proper ideas... A bit like this post...

What does it all mean?

Here are some of the itinerant ponders that were bubbling up over the Summer:

• You can grow seedlings in lengths of guttering.
• Seedlings grown in gutters can be easily planted out, in chunks, reducing root disturbance.
• At River Cottage, they grow tasty micro salads in gutters, all year round.
• Hubby really enjoyed cooking with the lovely fresh parsley that survived all winter in the greenhouse.
• We could really do with some shelving for seedlings, but there's no space in the greenhouse.

The mists are clearing...

& slowly... an image formed... & I said to hubby: "Do you think we could attach a couple of rows of guttering to the back wall of the greenhouse, & grow salads & parsley & coriander in them?"

He was so keen on the idea, he did it that very weekend - wot a star!

3 rows should do it

So we've got:

• Some timber planks screwed to the window frame; then
• Guttering brackets mounted onto the planks; then
• A standard length of guttering per plank;
• Capped at the ends with standard guttering ends.

How neat & tidy is that? Lovely.

1st sowing

The next step is to bung some compost in & sow some seeds. Rather than going mental & filling all 3 rows, we plump for just doing the bottom row for starters, with the 2 leaves we're most likely to use: Parsley & Coriander.

They're ALIVE! The coriander get going

After a couple of weeks - success! The seeds are starting to germinate - woo hoo!

Fancy a dip?

It's been a wet summer; you may've noticed. However, what we've never realised before, is that we have a very leaky greenhouse:

Hmm... are we creating a water feature?

It seems the rain just runs all the way down the garage wall, with scant regard for the greenhouse frame. But no matter, less watering for us :) It does mean tho' that if we don't want the seedlings to drown, it's time to get busy with the drill.

There's a hole in my gutter, dear Liza, dear Liza...

We'll keep an eye on them to see whether we need to add any more.

2nd sowing

When hubby put the 1st set of seeds in, he deliberately left some gaps. As well as trying to grow more things over Winter, we're also playing with sequential sowing. This is partly to try & give us a more regular delivery of leaves, but also cos when I've tried to grow corinader in the past, it's bolted quicker than Usain.

A second sprouting

So now all we have to do is wait & see how the little seedlings cope with reduced heat & light over the next few months. If these quite tender fellas should struggle, we can also try out some winter salads.

Up here in North East at midwinter, it starts getting dark about 3:30pm, I kid you not. On the upside, it's now less than a month til the days start getting longer... which means Spring is on the way - you heard it here 1st, folks!

Spring bulbs in... at the 11th hour

Big frost today. A bright & sunny morning, but definitely white & crisp out there. But the bulbs I bought nearly 2 months ago are still not planted. Pants. Gardeners' World had it as jobs to do for the weekend, but to me the look on Monty's face really saying "This should already be done, numbnuts". I might be projecting...

But as luck would have it I've got a free Sunday, & the sun is shining so it's Go! Go! Go!

Pots of pots

I'm planning on doing some more structural work this winter, so the plan is to put the new bulbs into pots. That way I can get them in soil right now & then position them out in the garden once all the heavy shifting is done. I've got some other bulbs that live in pots all the time, so fingers crossed these guys will be ok for now.

New bulbs on the block

So, who are the new recruits? Ladies & gentleman, may I present...

Dwarf Narcissus

I've never been 100% sure about dwarf daffs but I saw some at Alnwick Garden in early Spring this year & they looked very jolly.



So during my recent bulb binge, I picked up 3 x Silver Chimes, 5 x Tête À Tête & 5 x Minnow.

I'm afraid I forgot to take a picture of the Minnow card when I was in the garden centre, plus the Minnow & Tête bulbs were mixed up in the same bag to snaffle more variety for the bulk discount, so I've no idea what i've really got. I'll just have to wait until they flower & play spot the difference.

For mini flowers, these bulbs are huge! I'm surprised cos we've got lots of snowdrops & croci & they've got titchy bulbs. But no, these are all just as big as the tulip bulbs. I wonder if this means loads of flowers? Again, only time will tell...

Dwarf daffs from huge bulbs...

Tulips

We already have some tulips, but let's face it they're great so there's always room for some more.



So we have 3 x Queen Of The Night, 3 x Synaeda Orange & 10 x Shakespeare.

I thought I'd bought some white ones... I certainly spent a lot of time umming & ahhing over some, but if I remember correctly we already have 2 varieties in the garden - some traditional shaped ones, like white versions of the Queen Of The Night, plus some long thin ones, like the Synaeda.

Looking at this now though, I have no idea what possessed me to buy all those Shakespeares. What on earth was I planning to do with so many early, orange tulips? Tra la, I'm sure they'll be pretty enough.

Alliums

3 x Purple Sensation & 3 x Christophii. Again, they're in the same bag so I now don't know which is which.

I've had a Christophii before & it was amazing, but it only lasted 1 year. Bit of a shame. Is that cos they're bred to be sterile? Or did I plant it too shallow, as I've heard bulbs have to be planted really deep to last several Springs. I'll have to do some more research.

Let's pot them up

Gathering kit

Compost - check
Pots - check
Bulbs - check, check, check!

I bought some new pots earlier year. They were meant for other things, but I'm commandeering them for this now. I'll buy some more later. I've also got a few other large pots kicking about so out they come too.

I noticed the other week that the local farmshop does bags of peat-free compost - ace! The last time I went looking for peat-free multi-purpose at the local garden centre, it took ages. There were loads of different compost types & manufacturers, but I had to check each bag carefully to ensure peat-freeness. Even the Jamie Oliver brand growbags (Jamie Oliver?!) had peat in their mix. As gardening still accounts for the vast majority of peat use, & peat bog degredation is still an issue, I like to use peat-free if possible. Besides, my methods are so random that peatiness is unlikely to make much of a difference to my success rate.

Drainage

The pots all have drainage holes in the bottom, but if you just bang compost straight in the plant can end up waterlogged - the mass of roots & soil just won't drain efficiently. So to improve the drainage, first into the pot is some masonry.

Crocks for drainage

Crocks is a general term for any bit of broken pot or stone you have kicking about. Any stones I find when I'm digging the beds go into my crock pot. Broken vases, roof tile shards & bits of brick end up in there too.

Covering the crocks with gravel

The handful of crocks is covered with some pea gravel from the area in front of the house. This drives hubby mental as the gravel level slowly drops over time. But it's no biggie as we can always top it up if need be with another dumpy bag of shingle. Plus it means that I don't have to have a special store of gravel cluttering up the place just for this kind of job. This is multitasking gravel.

Again, the gravel improves the drainage by stopping the compost & roots getting all the way to the bottom of the pot.

You might think I'm labouring the drainage point here, but bulbs are prone to rotting if they get too wet. I've even seen advice about planting them on a layer of sand just to ensure they don't get soggy bottoms. I'll save the sand for when they go out into the beds, but for now the crocks & gravel combo should be fine.

Planting & positioning

Firm down a shallow layer of compost over the gravel & it's time to pop the bulbs in.

Cover the drainage with a layer of compost

Thankfully with most bulbs it's really easy to tell which is the right way up. Todays are nicely teardropped shaped, so it's pointy bit up to the sky, & sit them on their rooty flat bottoms, pressing down a little into the compost.

I've kept the bulbs away from the edge of the pot as I think I've heard they can be prone to frost damage, so they need to be kept snug in a compost blanket.

6 tulips with an allium in the middle

Now, when I planted these I was still labouring under the misapprehension that the Shakespeares flowered white, so in this pot we've got them alternating around the outside with the 3 Synaeda, & then a mystery Allium in the middle. So orange with orange & a bit of purple. But no worries - it just means I'll have an extended orange tulip season. Yay!

Other pot combos today include:

• 3 Queens, 3 Shakespeare & an Allium, which will be a heady orange & purple mix.
• 4 Shakespeare & an Allium, again, rocking opposite ends of the colour wheel.
• 3 Alliums, in the tallest, thinnest pot.... might be a bit prone to blowing over in the wind when in bloom that one...
• 3 Tête/Minnow.
• 2 Tête/Minnow but these were actually single bulbs at that Siamese twin stage, just ready to separate, so 4 bulbs for the price of 2 really. Bonus!
• 3 Silver Chimes. These guys were in their own bag so this should be a single colour pot.
• I put the remaining Chimes out at the end of the Alpine bed.

I'm actually quite excited about those orange & purple combos now. Admittedly I was expecting white in there, which would've been a bit classier, but this mix-up should yield striking results :)

Topping off

Once the bulbs were all in position, I carefully added the rest of the compost, gently around the bulbs first to keep them in position, & then on top. I press the compost down & top it up again a few times until there's about an inch left to the top of the pot.

Finally I topped them off with some more of the gravel.

Topping off with gravel & labelling up

The gravel is great at suppressing weeds & retaining moisture. Plus it gives a nice colour contrast against the plants, showing them off they nicely.

Finally the labels. I've been crap with labels in the past, but I'm trying to be more diligent cos I keep losing things. This time, some of the labels will need modifying later when I unravel the Tête/Minnow & Allium mix-ups.

A little bit of water over the top & we're done. I've put some pots the yard & some in the garden by the bench under the window. If they don't get clobbered when the snow falls off the roof this Winter, it should be a very bonny Spring.

Hedge scalping 2: Send for reinforcements!

Back in September, I wrote about tackling the annual hedge trimathon. In part 1, I was steeling myself for the job ahead. Now in part 2, I'll take you though this year's change of strategy.

Every year I gripe about trimming the hedge cos it's such a chew on. But this year I decided it was time to garden smarter: I wheeled out the big guns.

Toys!

There are a lot of hedge trimmers on the market, but I have some key needs that quickly narrow the field:

1. Must be electric

Yeah, I've read it all about you get more oomph from petrol & electric trimmers are wimps. But we already have a petrol power tool in our arsenal, a strimmer, & I just can't start the fucker. All that priming, choke tickling, chord ripping nonsense, in this day & age?! Motorbikes have had starter motors for over 50 years ffs. No excuse for it. Get your act together, 2 stroke engineers!!!!

& relax...

moving on...

2. Must chop large sticks

The laurel is such a beast that strong green new growth can already be over 10mm diameter by mid summer. What a monster.

So I needed something with big sharp teeth AND the power to use them.

Final decision hung on power delivery...

3. Batteries v cable?

I was very tempted by batteries - Monty Don has extolled the virtues of the rechargeable batteries route, & I can see that having no trailing cable is handy when your garden covers half of Hampshire.

But on the flipside, I had read a number of reviews saying that whilst the batteries do fine in year 1, performance seriously drops of in years 2 & 3. New batteries every year or so? Doesn't sound very eco to me.

So, as our garden is small enough for every extremity to be in easy reach of a cable, cable it is. I'm pretty sure I can manage not to chop through it or trip over it. Pretty sure...

And the winner is...

Ladies & Gentleman, may I present to you, the Bosch AHS 7000 Pro-T.

Nope, no idea what AHS nor T stand for. Probably nowt...

Awww yeah. Check out that bad boy :)

5 stars on Amazon, plus loads of reviews confirming it's ability to mangle even the toughest customers. Some concerns about weight, but some others saying it's not really a bother...

A swift visit to B&Q & it's mine, all MINE!

Just imagine... I could be this happy when trimming the hedge...

Is that a light breeze or did the hedge just tremble? Mwhahahaha!

Apathy in the face of cold, hard logic

What a beautiful day. Big blue skies all day long. A welcome respite from this year's seemingly endless rain.

I've got the whole day free & I've got things to do. Top of the list is to plant out the bulbs I bought over a month ago... I do this all the time - get over-excited at the garden centre & then neglect my purchases as soon as I get them home. Such a stoopid waste.

A bag of these beauties lie neglected in a corner of the garage...

So the bulbs need planting out sharpish, but it's not as simple as getting out there & bashing them in. I'm planning on doing some more structural work this Winter so I don't want plant the bulbs now only to end up scything through them all when I'm in demoliton mode.

The plan

Plant the bulbs in pots instead. Then in the Spring I can place them out when all the heavy work is over.
Great.
Only, the are 2 slight problems:

1. I don't have enough pots.
2. I don't have enough compost.

No biggie. Easily solved by a quick trip to the garden centre.

Only...

I can't quite summon the motivation to get out of the door.

A leisurely lie-in with coffee & biscuits. Then a bit of Facebookage whilst watching the final of The Great British Bake Off; straight into MotoGP; then the last race in World Triathlon Series, Women's & Men's in New Zealand, watching Jonny Brownlee become world champ; now the British Touring Cars at a sopping wet Brands Hatch... I've only moved from the sofa for coffee refuels & a bacon sarnie.

& the most stupid, most infuriating thing is that this is my last free weekend til December, & I still can't stick a boot in my sorry ass to get out there. Yay for an exciting social diary, but the garden pays the price.

It's a done deal now - the shops will be shut & it's getting dark.

I need another plan...

Moorbank Botanic Gardens threatened with closure

Noooooooooo!
I only just found it...

This week the Journal reported that Moorbank Botanic Gardens is to close. Newcastle University are pulling the plug on this little green oasis in the City.

Who knew there was a tropical paradise on the edge of the moor at the top of Claremont Road? Not me, that's for sure, & I used to work on Claremont Road. I must've driven past its gates a thousand times.

But I was given a heads up earlier this Summer when I went to an open evening a Moorbank with some green-fingered friends from work, & it was fab.

More about Moorbank

Rather than me mashing up their history, here's the description from the Moorbank Facebook page:

The garden has been used by botanists from the University since 1923.

& the research continues to this day - when we visited, there was an area cordoned off outside that was under test, plus there was what looked like a drought wheat trail in one of the hot houses.

In 1981, the area under cultivation was increased to over 1 hectare to provide a safe haven for rare plants donated to the University from the Kilbryde Garden in Corbridge.

Sadly, it turns out that haven may not be so safe... The plants were collected by Randle Cooke, a very private but dedicated exotic plant expert. He built his collection over 70 years, growing seeds brought back from all over the world by more intrepid plant hunters. The Hexham Courant has a fab article about the Kilbryde rescue which includes a great profile of Cooke.

In 1985, the new glasshouses were acquired to house experimental facilities and collections of tropical, dryland and insectivorous plants.

This part of the visit was amazing: a tropical section & a desert section, both packed with fabulous exotic species. The tropical area has a large collection of carnivorous plants such as this monster:

One of the many pitcher plans in the Tropical House

And to keep the atmosphere moist in the jungle, there's a little pond with trickling stream.

Lots of greenery round the Tropical House's pond

In 2000, the garden was further extended to allow for new developments including a hay meadow, wildlife hedge and Northumberland bed.

Apparently the hedge had a spot of bother recently after neighbouring cows had a bit of a maraud...

Also outside in the grounds is a little lake, although to be fair this Summer it was a little tricky to tell where the lake stopped the lawn started. But the bog plants were loving it.

Gunnera, outdoors by the little lake

Mind, Moorbank seem to be doing a better job at controlling the slugs & snails that the rest of the nation this Summer, as evidenced by the fabulous leaves on their giant hosta.

Huge hosta with impeccable leaves... not that I'm envious... not much...

As much as I love them, I've given up with hostas. Our resident snail population is so vast there's just no point. Instead I'm going to research how to go about harvesting snails for the garlic & butter treatment... I kid you not & you'll be the 1st to know.

A little work for charidee

One to drool, please...

Moorbank isn't normally open to the public, but we got in cos it throws the doors wide from time to time under the banner of the National Gardens Scheme. The Scheme is a fabulous way of getting a glimpse into places & spaces not normally open to the public.

& in a fit of IT fervour not commonly associated with horticulture, the scheme has an iPhone app. Yes really.

Moorbank will be opening it's doors again next year. I think we paid an entrance fee of £3 each. Plus there were tasty cakes & gorgeous little plants for sale. All the proceeds to charity.

Moorbank Open Days 2013

• Sunday 17th March, 1-4pm
• Wednesday 22nd May, 4-7pm with wine
• Sunday 21st July, 2-5pm
• Sunday 8th September, 2-5pm

Visit while you still can, & keep an eye on the Moorbank Facebook page for the latest news...

Are you talking to your plants in the right accent?

How we love the idea that talking to plants, or playing them music, could give better results. & to be fair, who wouldn't make like Douglas the runner bean & do their best for Felicity Kendall?

But this week a garden centre guy in Essex claimed accent had an influence - it's not what you say, but how you say it too.

Moving on from Tom & Barbara's ground breaking work on emotional impact, these guys played a variety of regional UK accents to a load of unsuspecting geraniums.

Their conclusions? Geordie tones work best, followed closely by Welsh. Well, it works for call centres.

Maybe this is why Geordie onions & leeks are so big... although for those, years of competitive selective breeding can't be completely ruled out just yet. Either way, I can't say I'm in any hurry to pipe Let's Get Ready To Rhumble into the greenhouse any time soon ;)

5 small ones in, but a big 1 out

It wasn't meant to be like this. Yesterday was meant to be a small potter with two key tasks:

1. Plant three free autumn-fruiting raspberry plants.
2. Plant a lovely white anemone next to a relocated shuttlecock fern.

Might even have time to plant some bulbs. A manageable agenda, relaxing even, & leaving plenty of time/energy for any little detour jobs that will inevitably catch my eye when I step outside...

More rasps, more of the time!

Free rasps taste better...

Yes, I know we've already got loads of raspberries, but a friend had three plants going spare. These will slot nicely into some gaps we have, plus they'll extend our raspberry season as these little feelas fruit in Autumn.

Only recently did I finally get my head around the concept of 'extending the season'. Loads of shows & articles talk about it, but I never really grasped the point of early & late version of the same thing. But after years of  mindlessly buying the same fruit & veg all year round, the food miles debate has finally helped this particular penny to drop for me. & if you too are still struggling to grasp what I'm blathering on about, here's my working out:

• Our raspberries fruit for about 3 weeks, around Wimbledon time. 3 weeks only. In a whole year.
• So, to have fresh raspberries at any other time of the year, I would have to buy them in.
• But when fresh rasps are out of season across the UK, they have to be shipped from overseas.
• Shipping British native fruit from the other side of the world just so I can have fresh rasps in December is a bit daft, & pretty eco-irresponsible.
• But... but... if I plant different varieties of rasps, varieties that fruit earlier or later than the ones I already have, then I can have home grown rasps all summer & into Autumn.
• & if I really must have rasps in December, I should stick any Summer surplus in the freezer.

Yay! Saving the planet has never been so tasty!

One rasp in, two to go...

So that's new rasps in old gaps, all watered in & labelled.

While I was in raspberry district, I tied in any additional growth on this Summer's canes. The stricter, Monty Don style regime plus the Alnwick garden head-bend I wrote about last time seems to be going ok: we've had some blustery days recently & everything is still in good nick. Plus that whole bed is still as tidy as when I did all that, so the compost mulch seems to be doing a good job of keeping the weeds down. Hooray!

Next...

Welcome to fern corner

The bottom right of the garden can get a bit gloomy under the long, long shadow cast by the huge hedge. So I've started filling it with ferns.

Fern corner - before

A couple of years ago, I bought a small pack of 4 varieties & planted them around the base of the forsythia. I had no idea exactly what they were, but there's a ferns article in this Saturday's Guardian Magazine, so at least I now know that the big fella at the back is a Japanese holly fern (& nice also to see that Hart's tongues are native - I'll hunt one of those out). Lord alone knows what the other 2 are though. & 1 poor soul has sunk without a trace, no doubt due to lack of sun - they were all the same size in the packet; how was I supposed to know how big they'd get? The packaging didn't even bother to give their names, let alone mention how lanky they'd be. Ah well, on the bright side, 3 survivors out of 4 is pretty good going for me.

Joining these hardy souls this weekend is a little shuttlecock fern. We have a huge one in the greenhouse, & a couple of years ago this spore-off-the-old-fern germinated & set up home at the foot of the compost bins. So last year I potted it up & dumped it in fern corner, to be "properly positioned later"... finally, it'll get it's toes in the soil.

A light in a dark place

Back when I planted the 1st 4 ferns, I also popped in some primroses & some white tulips, for some "splashes of seasonal colour" as the journos say. The blooms were part of a long term plan to try some of the design techniques I'd read about, which claim to make a short garden seem longer with only the power of strategic planting:

Strong colours & large things close by, pale colours & small things down the far end.

So about a month ago I bought a lovely anemone, to throw some more whites amongst the greens. & again I dumped the pot in the border & left it to be blown over several times under the guise of "checking it's in the right position"... I never learn...

But before those 2 finally get their roots in the ground, a few things have to come out - as you can see from the picture above, fern corner is a tad, erm, "wildlife". All the rampant herb robert, brambles and leggy buttercup thingies have to go.

Rotten discovery

Clearing the undergrowth, I find this sorry state:

Mouldy forsythia :(

Nope, that's not snow. That's mould. The forsythia has been here longer than us, & has quite a lot of dead wood at the back. I try to keep it tidy, but only in the last few years did I learn about the "flowers on last year's wood" business, so I've spent many years pruning it at the wrong time. But to be honest, I don't think this is a dodgy pruning problem. I suspect it's a combo of the very wet year we've had, plus the plant's age, plus its position - it's too close to the wall; smushed up against it, in fact.

This looks terminal. Oh crap, I think it'll have to come out. Which means it'll have to come out before I put the ferns in, which means it'll have to come out today... pants.

The Procrastination Distraction

Sounds like a Big Bang Theory episode, but it's the job I do while I avoid ripping out the mouldy forsythia. It wasn't on the list, but I need some thinking time.

Years ago I did my 1st bit of paving, & put a fan of clay bricks under one of the benches. I really like them, they make me smile every time I see them, but bare soil substrate with soil mortar means, surprise surprise, it's forever covered in weeds. No worries: 10 minutes scraping with the sharp edge of the hand trowel soon cleans them up lovely.

Freshly scraped under-seat bricks

I'll re-lay them. At some point. Later. Not today.

Out with the old...

Mind cleared, decision made: the forsythia's coming out. To be honest, it's not all bad news as one of the brambles is embedded in the bugger, so I can get rid of that at the same time. So, out come all the surrounding weeds. Out too comes the Japanese holly fern, otherwise I'd just trample it when trying to get the shrub stump up.

Lifting the fern is weird though, cos underneath it is a collection of shredded plastic. I'm baffled - I definitely did not plant that under there. & then I twig: must've been a mouse nest. I know we have rodents in the garden, & I'll write more about that another time. But it also explains why the bulbs I'm unearthing looked half chewed...

Fern shifted, it was time to tackle the stump. For this, I needed reinforcements...

Time to call in the professionals

I chop off all the long branches with the loppers, as far back to the stump as the loppers' jaws can manage. I then dig out the soil from around the base, trying to determine where the crown of the plant stops & the roots start. I find a root & it's big -  maybe 20mm diameter. The loppers can handle this so I take out a section. I find another root: it's massive. At least twice the size of the 1st, maybe more. I try the hand axe on this & Christ it's hard work - I had no idea! I can tell the axe is really sharp cos it's shaving the fern on my right if my swing is a little too wild. But I'm getting really tired really quickly & if I'm not careful I'll end up with the axe in my leg. I need another plan.

The saw is great. I've used it before on the demon laurel hedge from hell. It's quite hard work, but I find it's nowhere near as bad as the axe. But the saw is long, & the surrounding soil level means I'll have to cut though the thickest bit of the stump.

After what feels like ages sawing, but is probably only 5 mins (why do I hold my breath when I do this sort of thing?), I'm reassessing my options again. Time to try brute force. It's a risky strategy - only this week a friend did her back badly when trying to yank out a bramble. But I'm really tired now so my judgement is suffering.

I put my foot on one of the thick stumps at the back, hang on to the wall for stability, & give it a push with my leg. To my amazement, it moves! It moves loads! This job is much further on than I thought. Fantastic! A few more shoves, & it's up:

Uprooted

...in with the new

Lovely new anemone for fern corner

After the ugliness of the mouldy root, the anemone is just beautiful. Even though I've neglected it since I bought it, it had continued to flower away in the gloomy corner. This all bodes well, cos let's face it it'll be just as neglected for the rest of it's life. Autumn glamour with no effort - my kind of plant.

So I've got the flowers & the ferns. This time I'm positioning them properly - place them, & then plant them same day. Finally.

Positioning in pots before planting

All done

Fern corner - all done

So in the pic above:

• Anemone: back left.
• Japanese holly fern: back right, over the top of where the forsythia was... hopefully that mould wasn't soil-borne...
• Shuttlecock fern: middle left.
• Front left & right: the other unidentified ferns from the variety pack.

But this wasn't the end. Oh no. Cos all the stuff I've ripped out is filling the wheelbarrow & spilling over into a huge pile in the middle of the lawn. Compostable bits go into the compost, woody bits onto the wood pile, leaving 4 bags of green waste for the bin guys.

& in the 30 mins it took to tidy up, I got extra rewards for all my endeavour:

Revelation

All this waste could be produce. The garden produces so much green stuff every year & I'll I do is worry about harbouring endemic weeds & so rip most of it up to chuck it away. But with a bit more effort, all this greenery could be tasty & in my belly.

Wonder

Whilst filling the garden waste sacks, I heard honking geese. I looked up & against the deepening blue of the dusk sky I saw a huge V of birds heading South. Then 5 minutes later, a second group came up the street, no more than 20 metres off the ground. Amazing. Finally, as I put away the tools & drew the door to, I saw the misty full Moon rise. Just beautiful.