Despite being woke up a few times each night by our local cuckoo whose hormones have him calling almost incessantly, we are making good use of the beautiful weather.
Mostly, this means continuing to clear the new 'plant nursery' area, and re-instating the fruit garden near 'Fuchsia chalet'. Despite the area being scraped by machine two years ago it had totally overgrown with grass, rushes, and 'wild rhubarb', our giant weed here.
However, we are getting somewhere and will shortly lay 'mypex' sheeting, (the horticultural cover), to suppress weed, allowing us to establish raised beds and gravel paths. That should give us maximum use of the area as well as minimum maintenance.
The rugosa roses, zanteschia aethiopica lillies, and fuchsia magellanica are flowering freely. And a number of ornamental flax are throwing up flower spikes.
We have been tentatively allowing the ducks and hens to free-range openly in the garden when we ourselves are out and busy. So far there have been no casualties from a daytime visiting fox. But, in view of recent losses, we are very cautious. At other times , they free-range in their pens. The hens and ducks are laying freely at present. As I am writing (7pm) Eileen has just knocked on the study window and directed my attention to a very healthy red fox a few yards away in next door's land. It's a good job the hens and ducks are just put in. Phew!
Part of the reason we came to live here at River Cottage was a lifestyle change. We had grown disillusioned with our noisy, busy, but rather empty former lives. Our proffession was also failing us in a number of ways, we felt. There was a deep unmovable restlessness at our core. We wanted to live in a quiet, peaceful way close to nature, to grow our own food, to make things; to paint and write. To find out who we really were and what we really believed and valued.
Fourteen years later we are continuing to align our lives with living here in a quiet, appreciative, hopefully inobtrusive, way among wild rivers, mountains, the ocean, wildlife. We feel the more successful we are at this the more the next phase of this journey will unfold, or reveal itself, to us. Is it a journey of gradual awakening to the 'now'? Being fully conscious of our surroundings and appreciating each moment. I think that is coming close to it. Being fully present. Paying attention. Noticing the ordinary, everyday miracles.
A skylark spilled its beautiful song high above us in the blue sky this afternoon; we both stopped working and looked up, listening. Whatever it is to be present and at peace with the world, that lark was living it through his song.
Have a lovely week.
Mostly, this means continuing to clear the new 'plant nursery' area, and re-instating the fruit garden near 'Fuchsia chalet'. Despite the area being scraped by machine two years ago it had totally overgrown with grass, rushes, and 'wild rhubarb', our giant weed here.
However, we are getting somewhere and will shortly lay 'mypex' sheeting, (the horticultural cover), to suppress weed, allowing us to establish raised beds and gravel paths. That should give us maximum use of the area as well as minimum maintenance.
The rugosa roses, zanteschia aethiopica lillies, and fuchsia magellanica are flowering freely. And a number of ornamental flax are throwing up flower spikes.
We have been tentatively allowing the ducks and hens to free-range openly in the garden when we ourselves are out and busy. So far there have been no casualties from a daytime visiting fox. But, in view of recent losses, we are very cautious. At other times , they free-range in their pens. The hens and ducks are laying freely at present. As I am writing (7pm) Eileen has just knocked on the study window and directed my attention to a very healthy red fox a few yards away in next door's land. It's a good job the hens and ducks are just put in. Phew!
Part of the reason we came to live here at River Cottage was a lifestyle change. We had grown disillusioned with our noisy, busy, but rather empty former lives. Our proffession was also failing us in a number of ways, we felt. There was a deep unmovable restlessness at our core. We wanted to live in a quiet, peaceful way close to nature, to grow our own food, to make things; to paint and write. To find out who we really were and what we really believed and valued.
Fourteen years later we are continuing to align our lives with living here in a quiet, appreciative, hopefully inobtrusive, way among wild rivers, mountains, the ocean, wildlife. We feel the more successful we are at this the more the next phase of this journey will unfold, or reveal itself, to us. Is it a journey of gradual awakening to the 'now'? Being fully conscious of our surroundings and appreciating each moment. I think that is coming close to it. Being fully present. Paying attention. Noticing the ordinary, everyday miracles.
A skylark spilled its beautiful song high above us in the blue sky this afternoon; we both stopped working and looked up, listening. Whatever it is to be present and at peace with the world, that lark was living it through his song.
Have a lovely week.
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