We’ve had the thunderstorms and sandstorms, the flash floods in wadis (not in our garden, thankfully) and the roof flying off our beehive. Now, the heat has hit us and the garden is, in truth, past its spring best.
The story is mixed, however. There are shady areas where the grass is green, the plants thriving – among the fruit trees, for example. And there are splashes of colour from our faithful shrubs, hibiscus and rose. Meanwhile, the flame trees (Delonix regia) are filling the street outside the garden with a magnificent show, the odd branch spilling over into our garage and filling it with glorious, bright red flowers:
Even so, this isn’t the happiest time in the jasmine garden. Read more
I’m just back from discovering new lands, and the garden has run away with me. Rosemary, lavender and jasmine are roaring ahead; other plants are sulking about the poor diet, no supplements, they are putting up with (tomatoes – they never change). The compost bins are festering (plastic version) or dried out (wooden one). What joy!
Then, on Tuesday night, a howling wind and torrential rain erupted from nowhere. As a result the bottlebrush tree has lurched, or been blown, forward and lost all her lovely flowers, and the powder puff seems to be having a bad hair day:
Borage and calendula are flattened; roses forlorn; and one or two potted plants are awash.
For the past couple of months – bar a short trip to London to visit our two delightful little diversions* – I’ve been working hard in the garden. In winter time in Egypt it’s all go if only to catch up with everything you couldn’t get done in summer with the heat, exhaustion, holidays and so on!