Tulip planting (551)
by Max Akroyd
The last few days have been mainly sunless and stormy. This morning was sunny and calm and this unveiled a perceptible shift in the seasons. The leaves have been blasted from the trees and the local landscape feels like a familiar room with all the furniture taken out: bigger and a bit stark. There’s more light but increasingly it’s a cold, exacting winter glare.
With the ground pretty sodden, I had no counter-argument to being press-ganged by my wife into a morning’s tulip planting. We’re working on prettifying the first impressions of Kervéguen and this work will occupy much of January. But the tulip bulbs won’t wait that long so, bulb planters at the ready, we set off to the area of lawn in which the tulips are to be naturalised.
It was instantly apparent that the grass had grown again, so I had to wield the mower to give the bulbs a head start. The usual suspects were very happy about a late harvest of grass cuttings… the sounds of their happy munchings and occasional skirmishes over the diminishing pile accompanied our morning’s planting:
This wouldn’t be my choice of elevenses – but if they’re willing to convert it into something much more useful, that’s fine by me. At the other end of the utility spectrum, we returned to the house to find this scurvy lot in the porch, snoozing the day away instead of catching mice:
A more useless bunch of fat, feral, feline free-loaders is hard to imagine!