dressing gown gardening

 Summer is about breakfast in the garden

Pink dressing gown co-habiting with orange flowers - orange single flowered Dahlias with bronze foliage and 2 varieties of Crocosmia. A special golden yellow Crocosmia and a large flowered orange variety

Is autumn on the way? The bronzed tree peony foliage in the foreground, hints that it might be

Colour co-ordinated dressing gown with seat in the back garden - no gardener in sight

Toast and fruit with frothy coffee in the front garden, with the latest gardening mag nearby and waving out to passersby.  That's the interesting bit!   

I live in a multicultural community close to the city where there are many colourful people!!  Yes - even in conservative Christchurch.   Most people give a cheerful wave, some chat away like old friends and most remark on the garden.  But there a few who stride past head down, not noticing a thing. 
These ones often look as though they have the worries of the world on their shoulders and they probably have!   Many are young and I wonder if they have somewhere to live when housing is at such a premium these days.  
I feel as though I am one of the lucky ones with a house and a garden, realising it is not something to be taken for granted any more.
  Finally my gaze settles on the garden and I become uneasy.  It's not just the odd weed that disturbs me - they are easy to deal with - just pull 'em out! 
It's either a sick plant or a great long leafy branch of something which is entirely engulfing a treasure which I can't see anymore.  Panic overtakes me - where is that special plant?
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I leave the dressing gown and slippers behind as I leap out of my comfy chair to investigate.  From now on it's the long white nightie investigating, as I lift up the invading triffid and hurrah - my treasure is still there, albeit pale and tiny, as though it's been grown under a sack!  The invading triffid must be lopped.  But where are the secateurs?  In the shed.  So round to the shed I trundle, long white nightie trailing along the ground, to get the secateurs.  While I'm there I grab the loppers too, and the handfork to attack that big thistle which was bugging me, and perhaps the trowel as well, just in case something needs to be moved.  Intent on the task in hand and oblivious to the white nightie and the odd passerby, I trail back to the front garden and with great glee, lop a bit off here, and dig out the offending thistle there.  And suddenly I'm seeing a mass of other weedy problems which really need to be attended to on the spot!  Eventually, I stand back and survey where I have been - the garden's looking much happier for that bit of instant attention.  But then I remember I've got things to do - places to go and I look at my watch  - 11.30am??  How did that happen so quickly?  The front of the long white nightie's s a mess - covered in dirt, twigs, and scrunched up leaves, while the fluffy pink dressing gown is elegantly draped over the empty comfy breakfast chair!

Does this terracotta Helenium look good with this apricot Achillea

I'm realise I'm never going to get to those places I'm meant to go to, so best not to worry about things to do, places to go, and just spend some time in the garden - looking!  I look down at the mucky nightie and realise I do at least need to get into proper gardening duds, like the baggy muddy pants and the discoloured holey Tshirt.  Sometimes we get so involved in what needs to be done in the garden, that we forget to get dressed, but just stand and stare.  

Pinkish-orange Canna lilys steal the show with orange Dahlias and wild Fennel in the background

Staring, is actually time well spent, because that's often when the penny drops about what's wrong and what's right with the garden.    Are those plants which were moved in the spring doing as well as they should, and do they actually work with the rest of the plants and the garden generally?  What plants should I transplant in the autumn and what is allowed to stay? Questions, questions, questions and it's looking for those elusive answers which makes gardening so addicitive. ​

Orach and Queen Anne's Lace seedheads with Michelmas Daisies - or Asters

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​ Then suddenly it IS Autumn!  Well it feels like it in the mornings when there is a definite chill in the air.   I draw the pink dressing gown tighter around me as the mornings are no longer quite so balmy.   And there are seed-heads amongst the Michelmas daisies!