This week I woke to beautiful white frosted views. These are from my garden. The garden itself is in winter slumber. The grass is covered to ensure the grass dies back for Spring when I will be creating a wild flower garden. The wildflowers need barren earth, they need harsh, they need the support to flourish. There is enough grass here.
The composter has been fed again after an empty into my vegetable garden and the tiles all stacked to be used to roof some eccentric bee and insect house. The garden needs a home for them and with the flowers it will get busy. They need shelter, wind protection and choice of rooms, and I think there will be arguments about the view. Cant please em all, but that’s next years project.
For now the countryside sleeps and the cows munch on hay and get muddy socks. They don’t mind the cold, the wind, the lack of sunshine. They hate rain. Don’t we all when it starts to get into your ears. Next week the calves may head for the warmth of the barn, mothers may follow for a couple of months as the temperature plummets. I am abandoning ship for a month to visit my hometown London. We have stacked up wood for drying and hung curtains to stop drafts, ancient 1970’s fabrics from my mother-in-law [fabrics I just have to use as they are so bright and welcoming], and bought in thick scarves, hats and coats in reediness for our chilled return in January.
But until then, hopefully a few more chill walks in the frosted fields.