Tree fern rolling out the new growth
Apple blossom and a grazing bee fly
A sanctuary for me and the birds and the bees during this biological war: my patio garden in West London. And remembering Come in to the garden, Maud, Tennyson’s poem and the Victorian parlour song about the emotional impact of the Crimean War of that era. Just forty years later, houses like this were built over the the fertile market gardens of Fulham Fields.
My garden has had a lot more attention than usual over the past few weeks and is looking pretty much at its best. The birds are happy too.
Lime fruit ripening
Lemon fruit ripening
My patio garden in London W14. Note the nest for Red Mason Bees on the left, the green box next to the downpipe.
Blackbird female in my garden birdbath
Blackbird male in my garden birdbath
Fresh artisan croissants and coffee for breakfast in my garden: “An apple a day keeps the doctor away”
Repotting a lemon tree
In the sanctuary of my garden during this biological war, suffused with the scents of wisteria and apple blossoms and visited by the birds and the bees, I’m reminded of the Victorian parlour song derived from Tennyson’s extended poem exploring emotional tumult and trauma caused by the Crimean War
COME into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the rose is blown.
Alfred Lord Tennyson (1855), Maud and other poems