I wish I had a before picture. The shrubs really were coming along nicely.
This is what they looked like this morning.
Apparently they didn’t resist very hard.
No idea if there is any chance they may recover, but the planter is now in the garden. Bloody Bambi.
In other, less annoying wildlife news, a toad appears to have taken up residence in Irmani’s fuchsia.
Perhaps he’ll eat some of the caterpillars plaguing the island this spring. (Do toads eat caterpillars, I wonder, but cannot be bothered looking up.)
A morning spent weeding in the garden. (Unlike the vegetables I’ve unsuccessfully tried to grow over the past three summers, the weeds didn’t get the memo about the soil being crap.)
This particular bed is the first one I created when I first fenced off a garden area in the 1990s. In addition to the lilac tree (which finally blossomed this year), one of the five rose bushes I planted back then actually survived the years of deprivation when I was back in the UK.
And now there is a mystery.
That brave little rose bush, as it has proven every summer since 2010, is a red rose bush. So, how come the rosebuds it is producing this year are pale pink? Is that possible? A mystery for my horticultural guru cousin Peter.
The clematis is now in bloom.
Another mystery. The label suggested the flowers would be pale pink. Instead they are purple. In this instance I’m not particularly curious about why, because I actually wanted a purple clematis, but there were none left at the nursery. Bonus.
There is now so much fruit being promised.
Lots of raspberries.
The blackberry bush is producing an abundance of blossom.
Lots of flowers on the tomato plants.
And it turns out I was wrong when I said all the blossom on the apple tree had failed to produce anything that looked remotely inclined to turn into an apple.
It has, in fact, produced one thing that might turn into an apple. Time will tell.
Right now it’s time for a well-earned gin and tonic in the zero gravity chair.
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