Early Summer

Maybe it is wrong of me but today the garden spoke to me in the clearest tones - maybe because the sense of one season ending and another one beginning was so strong there. Yes there were roses and other plants that were looking a bit hot and tired, already worn out by the unseasonal heat we have experienced.

Yet there was also many roses in full, magnificent bloom. Hydrangeas of all shapes and colours, hiding in the shade or being more bold in their display.

The tiniest white flowers dotted like confetti amongst the green and others that looked like they had picked up their skirts and run here from an English wild meadow.

A different scent enticed my nose today and it took me a while to realise that there were also lillies in bloom.

Christmas in this garden will hold different scents again.

Mid Spring

I entered the garden after a long absence and gasped at the lush beauty before me.

The garden was verdant and welcoming with dappled shade and sunlit corners.  The grass had been newly mown and that lovely scent mingled with the perfume of roses to sweetly guide my way around the garden.

It was a warm day for Spring and this seemed to intensify the colours and scents.  For some reason it felt as though I was walking through a Van Gogh painting come to life - perhaps the blue of the sky and the tulips and irises blooming had a little to do with that.

A bore water sprinkler lazily spun, the hiss  and splash of water a soothing accompaniment to my wandering.

Early August

A Spring bright and blue day in Craignish.  The air had an added clarity, everything appeared sharp and well defined.

Every tiny daffodil, every tiny iris seemed polished and perfect.  Camellias showed off their ballerina like ruffles, nodding in time to the song of the magpies.

The lines of black pots which I photographed seemingly empty a couple of months ago are now shot through with green shoots, growing strongly into the light.

In a pot filled with water, a black goldfish swam.

Day Four - Mid Winter

David and Peter were working hard in the garden when I arrived.  Queenie was being kept inside because snail bait had been laid.  Everything is being geared towards the opening of the garden in August.

The lawn is beautifully clipped.  The paths are being cleared.  Everywhere you look is green.

Interspersed with the green are bright bursts of colour from the primulas, rainbow blooms in the green.  

A myriad of terracotta pots also lend their own colour, dotted through out the garden.

Many of the trees are still bare of course.  It will some time yet before they will be in leaf.  In the meantime their limbs cast slim shadows before them.

One pot filled with water, reflected the naked branches of the tree above.  It reminded me of a Chinese painting.

I lay on my stomach to photograph the scree at the front of the house.  It is a different world, a world in miniature, where tiny plants scramble along the pebbles.  

Day Three - Early Winter

A blue, mountains day.

An early winter's day.   I arrived at the garden to be greeted by David and Queenie.  She is the black Scottish shadow who is guardian of this garden.  

Soil has been turned.  Weeding is being done.  Green things are growing.

As always I found it bizarre to see a tree in bloom in this quiet season.  An ornamental quince in new blossom.  The few blossoms are vivid pink and  contrast with the deep green of the lawns.

In the distance I could hear the rumble of the coal train, headed west empty or east full.  It's noise is a regular comfort in our lives up here.

There are many terracotta pots.  They could lend the garden a European feel but instead the garden has an Oriental form.  Not necessarily in terms of its planting but in the delicious order, the twisted and clipped trees, the careful placement of plants.

The faded hydrangeas retain a little of their summer colour.  They remind me of what was and what will be again in the seasons of this garden.

Day Two - Late Autumn

Days of rain and wind have meant that it has been impossible to get back to Craignish.  Today I decided to take my chances.  Fortunately the rain held off and the sun shone briefly from time to time, illuminating dying leaves.

The garden has withstood the weather well.  There is a small black scottie dog called Queenie missing though. She is away at the moment. She usually ambles through the garden, a shadow slipping in and out of the shadows cast by tree branches.  

A dry stone wall has been built here.  In it is a peculiar hollow stone, placed there by the builder at David's request.  He found it when he was 12 and bushwalking with his father.  A cherished stone, it now serves as a memorial to David's father, protected by other stones and watched over by tall trees.

Day One - Late Autumn

I went to Craignish with Tricia.  As she showed me through the garden, which is owned by very good friends of hers, I knew that I would be very happy here.

It is not a huge garden, but every corner, every turn in a path, opens up a new vista.  The garden has been carefully planned but is not constrained by that planning.  

I look forward to returning there, taking my time to walk quietly through it and learn its voice.

Once again a garden will take me by the hand and teach me what it wants me to learn.