Blossoming into spring

Early September has brought with it some welcome rains. With over 20mm in the rain gauge being measured each week for a couple of weeks. We had some late snow on the highest peaks of the surrounding mountains. That has made the garden to slow down a bit. The birds have discovered which of the oak trees enjoy the first warmth of the morning sun. One finds them gathered there in the early morning, basking in its first rays.

The garden sounds more alive. There is the energetic high-pitched chirping of sunbirds. Their flashes of green and red appearing intermittently in the trees and rosebushes. All the early fruit trees are in blossom. The orchard is bedecked in shades of pink and white. Blossoms hang light and dreamlike upon empty branches. The floor of the orchard is completely different.  With its contrast of lush green nasturtium bushes pooling around the tree trunks. Pools that are dappled with bright yellow and orange flowers that enliven the cold ground beneath the trees.

Almond blossoms

I completely understand why Vincent van Gogh was inspired to paint several canvases of Almond blossoms. This he did between 1888 and 1890 while he was in the south of France. Blossoms are magical when they appear on the otherwise naked branches of the trees. Dotting grey brown branches in pinks and whites. Their sweet fragrance seducing more than just the bees into the orchard.

I find myself instinctively pulling a branch of blossoms towards me to inhale the delicate sweetness that is so part of the spring garden at Towerwater.

With all the garden spruced up for the new season, it is like sitting in a theatre hall. Waiting for the curtains to rise to reveal the first scene of a long-anticipated performance. The first flowers and leaves in the cold sleepy garden are like the first stringing of instruments from the orchestra pit. The anticipation to be drawn into a feast of colour and sounds that is palpable.

The herb garden

The empty-looking beds in the vegetable and herb gardens are deceptive. Above the soil it is all quiet. But beneath, there must be a rustle of seeds pushing out roots and new growth. As I look at the bare beds, it is difficult to imagine the feast of vegetables and herbs that they will soon produce.

Vegetable beds

In the space of ten days, the first tiny leaves will push their way through the soil. Searching for the sun and heat. Energy that will encourage the beds to explode into growth. In no time at all, there will be a harvest of runner beans, bush beans, mealies, carrots, beetroot, baby marrows, brinjals, sweet potatoes, red onions, brown onions, tomatoes, spinach, peppers, chillies, lettuce, cress, rocket, coriander, basil, tarragon, celery, fennel, thyme, sage, oregano, marjoram, chives, spring onions and cherry tomatoes.

I still have to decide what I will plant in the remaining beds. My head is spinning with thoughts of recipes that will do justice to the abundant organic produce of the Towerwater garden.

Every year is different and yet the same. After preparing the vegetable and herb beds for the spring planting, it feels like the first day of school. A day when you received your new books and pens. The new books were so clean. All the empty pages held the promise of fresh knowledge, new discoveries and the potential to improve on the previous year. That is how I feel when I look at the clean beds waiting to be planted. I will learn new ways of using their produce. Discover traditional recipes, while improving on how the garden was planned the year before.

Before sunrise

With the orchard blossoming into spring and the herb and vegetable gardens readying for their seasonal performance, we prepare ourselves to enjoy the spectacle. Trying hard not to forget our lines for our roles in the Towerwater Garden performance.