Don’t you love this time of year? And when summer finally arrived—with a brilliantly hot, sparkling week—the garden, like the countryside, burst into life. I’ve been missing Dorset so much having been away for three weeks now. So when I got down on Thursday evening it was magical to find things moving forward, the spring garden shifting into early summer. Day by day more irises unfurled and alliums opened. (I had forgotten we had planted quite so many alliums).
It was a very quiet weekend—the only noteworthy event being the brief breakdown of the Morris Minor on a quick spin around the lanes of Dorset. Thankfully she started before the AA man arrived and we drove home slightly nervously. Other than that: peace and quiet.
Yesterday evening the house martins returned and had started building their nest under the wide eaves of the Parsonage. Even if briefly, a perfect soft English early summer is here.
