Autumn is a second spring when leaf is a flower. Albert Camus
The colourful season is upon us when the countryside is transformed into a garden. All kinds of foliage are turning yellow, red or a rich brown like the apples on this year’s Bramley. In this corner of Wells it all kicked off with a lawn full of daisies. Then the grasses grew longer and, like lockdown hair, required a trim. Reluctant to behead all those cheerful blooms I mowed a couple of short pathways, leaving one or two patches of neglect to allow things to take their natural course. We are not talking along the lines of Monty Don and his glorious wildflower borders, but all the same. I took pleasure in the small things that survived without fuss nor attention, a bit of pink campion or a spindly umbellifera, nothing to rival the small acreage of wild carrot parterre in the garden of The Newt, of course.
Comparisons are irrelevant in one’s own plot and the main object of this laissez-faire approach was to see what Nature had in storage and has allowed to emerge. Certainly, there was a greater abundance of insect life of all sorts, hover flies, moths and butterflies throughout the season. The grasses might even have given a breeding space for the large number of Gatekeeper butterflies which for the first tome here were a feature throughout the summer. I like to think so. Our flower borders really and literally come alive with the presence of flying creatures and this thought has made me a tad more tolerant of the young badgers who use the garden for their convenience. Moreover, it gives us something to look back on even if the future is unknown. The Gardening Club’s website, www.wellsgarden.club, is up and running and will keep us informed of what’s going on. Pessimistically, there will be no events likely before Easter. In the meantime, look back into those catalogues. And don’t bother to tidy your borders until the spring… but those fallen leaves will be presenting a challenge… Pip