tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23701673006938328812024-03-13T19:17:58.514+00:00God in The GardenAn occasional series of reflections by JoakimJoc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-67734523100523285612023-04-01T21:55:00.000+00:002023-04-01T21:55:30.701+00:00Celebrating creation in Lent - Part 6: 5th Sunday in Lent to Saturday 1st April<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Sunday 26th March</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">At this time of year the shoots of perennials can be just as exciting as any flowers. I particularly love the scarlet new shoots of paeonies before the leaves turn green. This one, a cultivar of Paeonia lactiflora I think, will also dazzle with its large double carmine blossoms in May and June.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SHE9QiyDhr3_sYHITfT43-Z5hb8ej1ioZN9S0XflfnbwsfRLltqNH-ZGG82StKxPab1RtziDy8uHjMeiH8fljsPoyg6FmXxSCBgMSj6iChb8Uvbuy-ZOSK1CQ-K1nkm5BcsqXyU8DWNWXqFU4hz8lt8laMqyQuU_HHzbjy3GY2KaFke88p6KoAI4vA/s2009/IMG_20230325_133233%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="2009" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SHE9QiyDhr3_sYHITfT43-Z5hb8ej1ioZN9S0XflfnbwsfRLltqNH-ZGG82StKxPab1RtziDy8uHjMeiH8fljsPoyg6FmXxSCBgMSj6iChb8Uvbuy-ZOSK1CQ-K1nkm5BcsqXyU8DWNWXqFU4hz8lt8laMqyQuU_HHzbjy3GY2KaFke88p6KoAI4vA/s320/IMG_20230325_133233%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Monday 27th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This pretty epimedium gives a splash of light in a dark corner of the garden, above its new bronzed heart-shaped leaves. I'm pretty sure it's proper name is Epimedium x versicolor 'Sulphureum'. Among the common names for epimediums are Barrenwort and Bishop's Hat: the former, it is said, because the roots were believed to be a contraceptive, and the latter because the flowers resembled a biretta. I don't buy either explanation myself, but I do love the cheerful, little flowers!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtQgxGB8QbP6KqWP1Rr86o909aLmU1Qm-y_3-WqD5Ya3ZaUfrtloIF04zv7RlV1_CVHSmupfU4QAO3mxEjxud3pqDf6f5EiQD0KecyxipCXv3oS2uma7mv6JbqusY5R-zx7yw7A_mXyi0cBnP-HoHrpp7LxPD0EGkKwtgQYKRteIrqUkVvNuiCLnItw/s1454/IMG_20230327_152137%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1454" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtQgxGB8QbP6KqWP1Rr86o909aLmU1Qm-y_3-WqD5Ya3ZaUfrtloIF04zv7RlV1_CVHSmupfU4QAO3mxEjxud3pqDf6f5EiQD0KecyxipCXv3oS2uma7mv6JbqusY5R-zx7yw7A_mXyi0cBnP-HoHrpp7LxPD0EGkKwtgQYKRteIrqUkVvNuiCLnItw/s320/IMG_20230327_152137%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tuesday 28th March</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">The first blossoms just opening on the wild Bullace, known locally as damson, with scientific name Prunus insititia. There are big old trees in the hedge along the roadside, planted in the past for fruit I'm sure, which seed everywhere - the garden would become a thicket of Bullace if left to its own devices. These flowers are on a seedling. They promise a plentiful harvest of small, sour, blue plums in autumn, which make a superb jam. Amy picked buckets of them for me last year.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUQRRWw2lRj6zL23VygX-KeoRK_KY19GPeUbDR52gdIJ1vYNriLpzQus5fhIssCzH1wqyzb6KcyJrdbigTQNaJ2MLfc9g8BMrDpWKqffn_JGQZhtaAP2HqXLvN52m_nKN2Zgyf1Xri6MRU6T1gc6gYkPVs5m4wuvR2bPsWBeVJj8K0QytMktbravWTw/s2778/IMG_20230328_164912.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2778" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUQRRWw2lRj6zL23VygX-KeoRK_KY19GPeUbDR52gdIJ1vYNriLpzQus5fhIssCzH1wqyzb6KcyJrdbigTQNaJ2MLfc9g8BMrDpWKqffn_JGQZhtaAP2HqXLvN52m_nKN2Zgyf1Xri6MRU6T1gc6gYkPVs5m4wuvR2bPsWBeVJj8K0QytMktbravWTw/s320/IMG_20230328_164912.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday 29th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The first rosettes of one of the 2 species of native orchids we see in our wildflower meadow - Twayblade, Listera ovata. This particular plant always comes up and flowers earlier than the other twayblades. We shan't see the flowers, like little green men, until early May, but I'm delighted to find it just as it emerges from the soil with its two leaves furled up. I must mark it with a stick so I don't mow or trample it.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVz7Jv-49iH_j9rmmYjD62xjUMWZpM_GEN6wYYBkvwUniDEX0CfNopjSdjuzTES3HvDczTJ4eYyZXtwwFrQdV7g9EH2vHmda3QpfghWeoRkf2w-G1RBjYfKBpP6mxZN5OwofYOBBAlFxPiGHjRxuEmxOoXHv26RRB0VCCB-Rd3IqSc0DqhpjnBlLCxBw/s1977/IMG_20230329_114206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1977" data-original-width="1446" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVz7Jv-49iH_j9rmmYjD62xjUMWZpM_GEN6wYYBkvwUniDEX0CfNopjSdjuzTES3HvDczTJ4eYyZXtwwFrQdV7g9EH2vHmda3QpfghWeoRkf2w-G1RBjYfKBpP6mxZN5OwofYOBBAlFxPiGHjRxuEmxOoXHv26RRB0VCCB-Rd3IqSc0DqhpjnBlLCxBw/s320/IMG_20230329_114206.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;">Thursday 30th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I have seriously undercounted the flowering stems of the fritillaries in the wildflower meadow. I estimated 60 plus 2 weeks ago. But recounting now I find over 100! They are spreading faster than I realised, and I'm delighted. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRC1Z6tJelVED0LE3l7Jrsv8enRke35QRnqUkqV9z81rzHlMOM-qIYxZw5Vushwww5F1ZGG--D7Rr590TK4LosX5_S1f4sGsqJKsKOq04rRXuC-SUK_br3m3rTANf87GZy14GWIVJTsRv_YoJllVZys9ODiv53_iiYQ_9pyesjrPMUxKkyY3bVxTp6kw/s2413/IMG_20230325_152111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1810" data-original-width="2413" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRC1Z6tJelVED0LE3l7Jrsv8enRke35QRnqUkqV9z81rzHlMOM-qIYxZw5Vushwww5F1ZGG--D7Rr590TK4LosX5_S1f4sGsqJKsKOq04rRXuC-SUK_br3m3rTANf87GZy14GWIVJTsRv_YoJllVZys9ODiv53_iiYQ_9pyesjrPMUxKkyY3bVxTp6kw/s320/IMG_20230325_152111.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Friday 31st March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This lovely small spring-flowering shrub is Viburnum carlesii, native to Korea and Japan, and named for William Carles, a British diplomat who served in Korea in the 1880s. I gave the young plant to Marty as an Easter present years ago, and it is now about 6ft tall and wide. It is usually highly fragarant, though in todays cool weather I could not smell it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It is sometimes given the English name 'arrowwood', but I suspect this really belongs to a related American species V. dentata, which native americans used for the shafts of arrows.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3UlrYYSvw5ZsPFTUMLftkGk9mG4C4GTWQdMG7E-mFT_1ths7Mv9Zu13UNm3_PtdN9nlHCmyZw3eX3czq7W7olniahqKCOULl0aB1B8ui1_fteWbxCjuIV6Qp5bkfct24djjowlfeU-kKfHg8cYBVG8BGfIS45YaA0e-Y2MAXPnRpJnQN7v67V0b-BA/s2048/IMG_20230331_125852%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1533" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3UlrYYSvw5ZsPFTUMLftkGk9mG4C4GTWQdMG7E-mFT_1ths7Mv9Zu13UNm3_PtdN9nlHCmyZw3eX3czq7W7olniahqKCOULl0aB1B8ui1_fteWbxCjuIV6Qp5bkfct24djjowlfeU-kKfHg8cYBVG8BGfIS45YaA0e-Y2MAXPnRpJnQN7v67V0b-BA/s320/IMG_20230331_125852%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday 1st April</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Last year's colourful shoots from the pollarded willows have finally been lopped. The pruning looks rather drastic just now, but within a few weeks new green shoots will begin to show. By the end of the autumn they will have grown a good eight foot tall, standing leafless through the winter like glowing yellow, orange and red fireworks in the low sunshine. In the meantime the wildflowers in the bed in front, red and white campion, blue meadow cranesbill and chicory, purple greater knapweed and wild marjoram, will have the light to flourish and flower in succession through the spring and summer. How generous mother nature is to us!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDiQe4DVv6rHGeAzIexCtvHwDbwYUDBCgolpPrLO-csAsOow9qBJdYdO2T9EOWPQzP6QDGNmzvpjnOBrE8qDWftlvLO8xQQbyhUz_6Y3wSHI97e30cZDrsVOCaGaHn96JXiPXzAjNcRK6NmVfoiyYtgy_Kmu3-j598GsVl1Ub_DQiNFN553R9aOfrRw/s2252/IMG_20230331_130205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="1927" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDiQe4DVv6rHGeAzIexCtvHwDbwYUDBCgolpPrLO-csAsOow9qBJdYdO2T9EOWPQzP6QDGNmzvpjnOBrE8qDWftlvLO8xQQbyhUz_6Y3wSHI97e30cZDrsVOCaGaHn96JXiPXzAjNcRK6NmVfoiyYtgy_Kmu3-j598GsVl1Ub_DQiNFN553R9aOfrRw/s320/IMG_20230331_130205.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span><p></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-39427278674939980422023-03-27T09:41:00.000+00:002023-03-27T09:41:04.621+00:00Celebrating creation in Lent - Part 5: 4th Sunday in Lent to Saturday 25th March<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Sunday 19th March, the 4th Sunday in Lent</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This is Stachyurus chinensis, a handsome early spring shrub with stiff dangling racemes of yellow bells on dark twigs with fiery young leaves. Marty and I visited Caerhays Castle about 5 years ago to see the famous magnolias. It was a dire day, rainy and drisly, and Marty stayed in the car. The magnolias had been scorched by a late frost and most looked as miserable as I felt. However, this shrub in full bloom caught my eye. I bought a young plant from the sales area, as a memento of the dreadful day, and planted it in Marty's labyrinth garden. It is pretty, colours in autumn, but has no scent. I rather wish I had bought a fragrant Corylopsis instead...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AhIgkM9JqN9yufqbmV1G5gG-mpDYNJMJrNyqCyqFnVTe49eOL_QmlROjx08uz0TSmRu0SyFpi8uYRcQjXyQl2uHFQK8zsilBJs6eST9YqcYu0dprnZ7eoHYay-Q_qZCzgOT9YvsPfad976j45pFqcrlePy0AfClftUAxKbKQZLHljBqExHh2E3A1tQ/s2777/IMG_20230319_155546%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2777" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AhIgkM9JqN9yufqbmV1G5gG-mpDYNJMJrNyqCyqFnVTe49eOL_QmlROjx08uz0TSmRu0SyFpi8uYRcQjXyQl2uHFQK8zsilBJs6eST9YqcYu0dprnZ7eoHYay-Q_qZCzgOT9YvsPfad976j45pFqcrlePy0AfClftUAxKbKQZLHljBqExHh2E3A1tQ/s320/IMG_20230319_155546%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">Monday 20th March</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The ravishing pink flowers of Magnolia x loebneri 'Leonard Messel' are just beginning to open in our garden. It is a hybrid between M. kobus and M. stellata, both Japanese species, made by Max Löbner in Germany shortly before WWI. It is named for Leonard Messel who inherited the great Nymans garden in Sussex. There is an Irish connection, as his daughter Anne married Michael Parsons, the 6th Earl of Rosse - their son Brendan, the 7th Earl, lives in Birr Castle.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDb_AZpGRC3GMzuVUff62VYoGskwheNhNbokxepJtt8eKEGnU08dNehHJ4xVOLCUudixIDEJ1PCJ8yT4Y5maRkYTuE6C3oeUmcSR18uWl7RLAlK0Ol5jeyQTRK-RYE9DMIe87dBPU93BsApVUQJED20KL3QwqPOVg7ibLe9dk400lQH1Hx4HE6l3gdg/s1526/IMG_20230320_131324%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1526" data-original-width="1332" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDb_AZpGRC3GMzuVUff62VYoGskwheNhNbokxepJtt8eKEGnU08dNehHJ4xVOLCUudixIDEJ1PCJ8yT4Y5maRkYTuE6C3oeUmcSR18uWl7RLAlK0Ol5jeyQTRK-RYE9DMIe87dBPU93BsApVUQJED20KL3QwqPOVg7ibLe9dk400lQH1Hx4HE6l3gdg/s320/IMG_20230320_131324%20(2).jpg" width="279" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Tuesday 21st March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The rain has been quite unremitting today, so I haven't been able to take photos in the garden, but here is a photo of Marty's labyrinth garden looking decidedly dank, taken from a downstairs window. It is full of colour as you can see - how blessed we are with our garden!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNcRqeVdHGsH9RwCzxE9EM6U1LN2UaJozuvex8s09YEj1AglNqAJjtinYCa7CipDSaOK8uOl7P6j92CqLLpHfEdvsFr4tYZ3YCwDQ15MoApkUkik35qhRfGoaAXiNikFsFCbifgRNVVDB95CZNROu_dUYS_DAEqU5-3mEbFZDv23GJMF0hQxA4YHtSQ/s3466/IMG_20230321_151959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1346" data-original-width="3466" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNcRqeVdHGsH9RwCzxE9EM6U1LN2UaJozuvex8s09YEj1AglNqAJjtinYCa7CipDSaOK8uOl7P6j92CqLLpHfEdvsFr4tYZ3YCwDQ15MoApkUkik35qhRfGoaAXiNikFsFCbifgRNVVDB95CZNROu_dUYS_DAEqU5-3mEbFZDv23GJMF0hQxA4YHtSQ/s320/IMG_20230321_151959.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday 22nd March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The wild primroses are showing really well now on the mossy, north-facing hedge bank at the back of our house. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But there is so much else to see in this photo if you enlarge it and look closely, which I strongly urge.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I can see Goosegrass, Lords & Ladies, Ivy, Shining Cranesbill (tiny pink flowers), Herb Robert and (I think) Nipplewort, but I'm sure that's not all. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Thank God for the marvellous diversity of our wildflowers!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqz_JEP7zphqrYzF7Usyk7z-oJd54faZY_0Ual9QGTs5AWT9E12AjUn7OiGKrfEcvnVy0VrnXKbDRt24CwONGqrIdzNa4VRQ62dVbGVd9xOoCv0xzYc8cHxRhi9uMX3O1pHMt_Nf5y0BR_C_9DeIiPG2dVMpjvVsNhZzbkbmkDDU57hM0oQb5NkJJ0Q/s3031/IMG_20230321_151315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2210" data-original-width="3031" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqz_JEP7zphqrYzF7Usyk7z-oJd54faZY_0Ual9QGTs5AWT9E12AjUn7OiGKrfEcvnVy0VrnXKbDRt24CwONGqrIdzNa4VRQ62dVbGVd9xOoCv0xzYc8cHxRhi9uMX3O1pHMt_Nf5y0BR_C_9DeIiPG2dVMpjvVsNhZzbkbmkDDU57hM0oQb5NkJJ0Q/s320/IMG_20230321_151315.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Thursday 23rd March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Another glowing jewel - the first cowslip of the year! Cowslip (Primula veris) is a common native plant of unimproved pastures, but changing agricultural practices has made it scarcer. When the wildflower meadow was first seeded, in what was a bare arable field, I used to count the handfull of cowslips that appeared, and leave them to seed before mowing in autumn. They have spread marvellously since, and are now more than can be counted.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's a different story this year in a part of the lawn with spring bulbs where cowslips also came of there own accord. I failed to mow it last autumn. A thick thatch of vigorous grasses has completely suppressed the cowslips, and I cannot find a single one. A valuable reminder of the importance of consistent management. I will be interested to see if they come back again from the seed bank, now it has been cut.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyrYYO6_hkI5Ib3a-Lhshqm_n540XLV0G5yT1UkEjsrji_ngI3Tbaa8vT0BmipPBa7fc4to1vZxwB2N6mOrgHKXHp-x-6IzV_ALSYK8KqT-ZA-Wge4eHxjiK6bCH2EgH0nqBqVF9RE0_znUBnqvXLa1VyFaVQxZtL1F35pKCrCnQquD09OrTweQaNaw/s2777/IMG_20230323_154136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2777" data-original-width="2083" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyrYYO6_hkI5Ib3a-Lhshqm_n540XLV0G5yT1UkEjsrji_ngI3Tbaa8vT0BmipPBa7fc4to1vZxwB2N6mOrgHKXHp-x-6IzV_ALSYK8KqT-ZA-Wge4eHxjiK6bCH2EgH0nqBqVF9RE0_znUBnqvXLa1VyFaVQxZtL1F35pKCrCnQquD09OrTweQaNaw/s320/IMG_20230323_154136.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Friday 24th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Another wet day with a bitingly cold wind discouraged me from walking in the garden to find something to snap. But my Lenten project has been saved by Marty's colourful pots outside the front door. A pot of daffodils, Tête-à-tête I think, like a beam of sunshine; Tulips growing away, with some flower spikes starting to colour. The last of the crocuses, which are over elsewhere in the garden. Bright hyacinths scenting the air. And a photinia which we have mistreated for years but refuses to die...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZHtZ1erPWJHDpFGMGdE3B0DlsJl3bkrtqYlZlKu9UzMWk8JWBkb0u5YeaOXd0L1wQnlyZRzGq5dkXwHqefC6whdexfQ4IDGSET_xqVV-VbxrvIxIVci4BGKEjjKSBf9gbpcyNI3GenatDbthiYThIt6lhKCCW8RZE5zsd-NpYNon7YPUdxZFTDNG7A/s2803/IMG_20230324_174957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2678" data-original-width="2803" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZHtZ1erPWJHDpFGMGdE3B0DlsJl3bkrtqYlZlKu9UzMWk8JWBkb0u5YeaOXd0L1wQnlyZRzGq5dkXwHqefC6whdexfQ4IDGSET_xqVV-VbxrvIxIVci4BGKEjjKSBf9gbpcyNI3GenatDbthiYThIt6lhKCCW8RZE5zsd-NpYNon7YPUdxZFTDNG7A/s320/IMG_20230324_174957.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday 25th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">These light blue grape hyacinths, basking in today's warm sunshine, have attracted a honey bee. She is foraging pollen to feed her brood - you can see a basket of yellow pollen on her hind legs. It is a cultivar of Muscari armeniacum, probably 'Valerie Finnis'.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The colour is what I was brought up to call Cambridge Blue, in contrast to dark Oxford Blue. What is now called Cambridge Blue is a much greener shade, used by Cambridge University Boat Club, though the Cambridge Rugby Union Club still use the older colour. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">As an alumnus I'm rooting for Cambridge in the University Boat Race on the Thames tomorrow, though I see Oxford are 4/7 favourites this year...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAw8JxE5TaCaJyv3mblqIQnoOtQEBNILl6YfOgRiaZG2KNEPcVujmUGfEXhBdIM2W3QzqfBsqgxzDsMhfx3pKdEYPmfw7iyJnt3oNywpYoPxiIFokmPXv34NEVv59ArfQWqVOi1JjSkcmSQBQOO_ujjOHKCwrLVrnOi3rzBvzvUMb5xZICKikSqpGbw/s1944/IMG_20230325_133111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAw8JxE5TaCaJyv3mblqIQnoOtQEBNILl6YfOgRiaZG2KNEPcVujmUGfEXhBdIM2W3QzqfBsqgxzDsMhfx3pKdEYPmfw7iyJnt3oNywpYoPxiIFokmPXv34NEVv59ArfQWqVOi1JjSkcmSQBQOO_ujjOHKCwrLVrnOi3rzBvzvUMb5xZICKikSqpGbw/s320/IMG_20230325_133111.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">PS. Yay! A double for Cambridge - both the men and the women won their races. Shame for the other place, which insists on punting from the wrong end...</span></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-57537245328486681052023-03-19T00:45:00.000+01:002023-03-19T00:45:07.497+01:00Celebrating creation in Lent - Part 4: 3rd Sunday in Lent to Saturday 18th March<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Sunday 12th March</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I've been watching the furry buds of this Star Magnolia, Magnolia stellata, for some time. It held its delicate white petals back during the frost and snow, but today I found the first flowers fully open on its bare branches - a lovely sight. This small, slow-growing tree was a house-warming present from a good friend more than 20 years ago. We continue to be blessed by it.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMG62gV7VlN34xradVLPq9v90Rnctp_zmf7tm37SXPjkA-5noMKzLUqE3zV7W80fInp1nSvGkyL51XdDU2ccerIOBMhk57fSg9Rjrzd-t5e9aC40GTnB7kUraC7lR5eWvpjIvTOoLavtqgpQU9ygDxpxVxskVSFiFSoKuSIU7wUm3sZv5kl2fRHZ7rw/s3968/IMG_20230312_165342.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3968" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMG62gV7VlN34xradVLPq9v90Rnctp_zmf7tm37SXPjkA-5noMKzLUqE3zV7W80fInp1nSvGkyL51XdDU2ccerIOBMhk57fSg9Rjrzd-t5e9aC40GTnB7kUraC7lR5eWvpjIvTOoLavtqgpQU9ygDxpxVxskVSFiFSoKuSIU7wUm3sZv5kl2fRHZ7rw/s320/IMG_20230312_165342.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiT7mXAFH79mSklAMZ8xKjdr9SwJCpbYRNFaFqgkoVScVsOxFvvoyjsWVMps-A1Kc3TqmZoC612sn9zZabZWtSN5vkyop_NbusryBRCw6vCIsuXJjK1V76a7gqA_WQb434E6RqC4rEq3MQRSrX463PMcSNmv0ILM-5Nanbse1C9fbB2FJPMRibE8_nA/s2079/IMG_20230312_165410.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2046" data-original-width="2079" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiT7mXAFH79mSklAMZ8xKjdr9SwJCpbYRNFaFqgkoVScVsOxFvvoyjsWVMps-A1Kc3TqmZoC612sn9zZabZWtSN5vkyop_NbusryBRCw6vCIsuXJjK1V76a7gqA_WQb434E6RqC4rEq3MQRSrX463PMcSNmv0ILM-5Nanbse1C9fbB2FJPMRibE8_nA/s320/IMG_20230312_165410.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Monday 13th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This pretty narcissus, which came originally from my parents, is just coming into flower on our roadside verge. It doesn't spread by seed with us, but clumps up very generously, which has allowed the gardener Geraldine to spread it in the shelter of the evergreen oak hedge. I think it's either a subspecies or a cultivar of Narcissus tazetta, but it is a bit smaller than the type at about 12 inches. Do let me know if you can give me its proper name...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJaXIznACswYpdj_NZkZaZEZ-HQibzbCruQJ8yCW-U0tfHn7wm6LICyZgPktfXSDqjo0CFjzn34_72GuphEqDs64iw28uJS_BCwi8S_AJ7hH2mTve-_pbMA1G4YFh8dVAZ1hv02uBhO3lwTXbwxfhcQ2ET1bkg1k8yLC-_x4pvYnA2YFJOVqoiJkcIw/s1939/IMG_20230313_114707%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1695" data-original-width="1939" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJaXIznACswYpdj_NZkZaZEZ-HQibzbCruQJ8yCW-U0tfHn7wm6LICyZgPktfXSDqjo0CFjzn34_72GuphEqDs64iw28uJS_BCwi8S_AJ7hH2mTve-_pbMA1G4YFh8dVAZ1hv02uBhO3lwTXbwxfhcQ2ET1bkg1k8yLC-_x4pvYnA2YFJOVqoiJkcIw/s320/IMG_20230313_114707%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Tuesday 14th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The snake's head fritillaries (Fritillaria meleagris) are just coming out in the wildflower meadow, quite unfazed by the recent hail, despite looking so delicate. Their common name is probably due to the snakelike appearance of the unopened flower buds you can just see in the distance. The flower colour is naturally variable - most are this red and white chequerboard pattern, but some are pure white, and others intermediate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">They are a doubtful native in Britain, though widely naturalised, quite uncommon in the wild in Ireland, but often seen in gardens. I let the seed heads mature for the wind to scatter the seed, and they have been increasing by about 20% year on year, from the 20 or so bulbs I planted, to well over 60 flowering stems this year. What a wonder and a joy they are to me!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohI7WmvLHECEQao0xD4uIKnOsaXZNhFvO-4R7eVdYEPvTWSByxb2jWv0wOk2qkJJrfcMmLr8drNS3sQkdJM759F0Zoc_-5j-mUftu2CcabJT3hPJn8wtIraZ7glZYHNpLnXL-TqVvwdnoII5RMqAYTBynjPf7wmuZZEZd2Aqpe1oToO4Lix_gkrb8Jw/s3903/IMG_20230314_152919%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3903" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohI7WmvLHECEQao0xD4uIKnOsaXZNhFvO-4R7eVdYEPvTWSByxb2jWv0wOk2qkJJrfcMmLr8drNS3sQkdJM759F0Zoc_-5j-mUftu2CcabJT3hPJn8wtIraZ7glZYHNpLnXL-TqVvwdnoII5RMqAYTBynjPf7wmuZZEZd2Aqpe1oToO4Lix_gkrb8Jw/s320/IMG_20230314_152919%20(2).jpg" width="244" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday 15th March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">These pine cones, a gigantic 18in long, belong to a Holford Pine, Pinus x holfordiana. I bought it as a young plant at Westonbirt Arboretum, Gloucestershire, as a memento of our visit there. It is a hybrid between the Mexican White Pine, Pinus ayacahuite, and the Blue Pine, Pinus wallichiana, which was first made around 1904 at Westonbirt, then owned by the Holford family, after whom it is named.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I love it for its long, greyish needles in bunches of 5, as well as for its spectacular mature cones, which are covered with a very sticky, white resin, as you can see in this photo.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5KJzqwZKj9kwRQ_3-C0P8CUmRIB_Ez67kRNeKyu3aZ8_s7Bzt1mc6HxwTiGBLYMwKqAmqnUNzmfakocY1Nbb5S7ctzOb9Hm15X1nfjEiZ0HhRv0k_X9aebU8ERHOyNGw5U_vH-S44AX964QlkBIoD88gbLfHiY_d6WbAIi13FXAfIktBwGOZZlF6yIA/s1361/IMG_20230314_153448%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1361" data-original-width="1040" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5KJzqwZKj9kwRQ_3-C0P8CUmRIB_Ez67kRNeKyu3aZ8_s7Bzt1mc6HxwTiGBLYMwKqAmqnUNzmfakocY1Nbb5S7ctzOb9Hm15X1nfjEiZ0HhRv0k_X9aebU8ERHOyNGw5U_vH-S44AX964QlkBIoD88gbLfHiY_d6WbAIi13FXAfIktBwGOZZlF6yIA/s320/IMG_20230314_153448%20(2).jpg" width="245" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;">Thursday 16th March</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Two types of daffodil came as volunteers with topsoil after the extension to the house was built. The 1st is double, flowers earlier, and does not set seed. The 2nd is now in full flower - a cultivar of the wild daffodil Narcissus pseudonarcissus, I think, somewhat taller than the true wild daffodil. It is fertile, and for many years I have collected the ripe seed, and scattered it to fill gaps along the drive. It is said to take 5-7 years from germination for a seedling to flower, which I believe, because only over the last couple of years have the first seedlings started to bloom. They have shorter stalks than the original volunteers, and I suspect they are reverting to the true wild species, which pleases me. On the left of the photo is a clump of the original volunteers, and on the right are one open and one closed flower on seedlings.</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fbht9e9Z9esqgvMllq815bx-S7XhnAc-xki2j5vIv1s1oXxEGl2HEyrsXxx9O6fDzEK5SWGtT_SIsZRGZOMtjVteGeXvBcOzZdkvNKNDQTopHoD0ZCjmfSgwYoXhxXylWfx-gh3iBsn6IGuKiLBdA-tJlJUeYt44SNs-eOWK0JFm2Ju7PDbyi0Azvg/s2777/IMG_20230316_120631.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2084" data-original-width="2777" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fbht9e9Z9esqgvMllq815bx-S7XhnAc-xki2j5vIv1s1oXxEGl2HEyrsXxx9O6fDzEK5SWGtT_SIsZRGZOMtjVteGeXvBcOzZdkvNKNDQTopHoD0ZCjmfSgwYoXhxXylWfx-gh3iBsn6IGuKiLBdA-tJlJUeYt44SNs-eOWK0JFm2Ju7PDbyi0Azvg/s320/IMG_20230316_120631.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Friday 17th March, St Patrick's Day</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span><div style="font-size: large;">Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!</div><div style="font-size: large;">My Grandmother always used to post some shamrock over to England when I was a child, so that the family could wear it on St Patrick's Day. And I still like to pick shamrock and wear it to church to celebrate my irishness on his feast day.</div><div style="font-size: large;">I looked for some this morning where I usually find it in the drive, but Geraldine the gardener has done such a good job hoeing the weeds that there was none to be found this morning. But when I got to the service in St Flannan's Cathedral, Killaloe a kind lady gave me some of hers, so that I could wear the green and later drown the shamrock!</div><div style="font-size: large;">The top photo is of the shamrock she gave me, and the bottom one is of shamrock growing in our drive last year. They are both Black Medic (Medicago lupulina), as you can tell from the little spike on the end of each of the three leaflets - one of several different trefoil species claimed to be the true shamrock...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnnI-ndgH_sN6vOfyEOYZjlpuGKCBgbcMtSfn1iMzQfEiTWSjP-xsFuBE34SaO-IAqJEeXYvQW9LIeFLnadT1ADmfY0HKVW8oTIz0tjegmO7xtFuDTt5lE8695d_OuoKeRRND731uEpCpeXZC0uN9UXmKsbGRKirBK4m9sb2-ECMsQ__w3LRWY_KtOw/s2976/IMG_20230317_223247%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1722" data-original-width="2976" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnnI-ndgH_sN6vOfyEOYZjlpuGKCBgbcMtSfn1iMzQfEiTWSjP-xsFuBE34SaO-IAqJEeXYvQW9LIeFLnadT1ADmfY0HKVW8oTIz0tjegmO7xtFuDTt5lE8695d_OuoKeRRND731uEpCpeXZC0uN9UXmKsbGRKirBK4m9sb2-ECMsQ__w3LRWY_KtOw/s320/IMG_20230317_223247%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1Wt9VHpsbGYP_983wXtZ5AtzixBm-KbzvgyjPHN4VevkcT7JURr6o5QlD0R14C4eKwT-sVoNg6ssu-FNro_02GDlCZNnicVYEHKiryZl8oalflViy8Atil2qjqmWKF8TXLh9CKGBuZh4x4u0DYLG7WOVRL7CNQLm1UL-4oy-Rr8ygIPDl-ctSnE43A/s992/Shamrock.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="992" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1Wt9VHpsbGYP_983wXtZ5AtzixBm-KbzvgyjPHN4VevkcT7JURr6o5QlD0R14C4eKwT-sVoNg6ssu-FNro_02GDlCZNnicVYEHKiryZl8oalflViy8Atil2qjqmWKF8TXLh9CKGBuZh4x4u0DYLG7WOVRL7CNQLm1UL-4oy-Rr8ygIPDl-ctSnE43A/s320/Shamrock.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday 18th March</span></div><div style="font-size: large;"><br /></div><div style="font-size: large;"><div>I've only just noticed this lovely foliose lichen, growing on the trunk of a birch tree in Marty's labyrinth garden. I'm not good at identifying lichens, but I think this one may be Punctelia subrudecta, which the Irish Lichens website (irishlichens.ie) says is common on trees throughout Ireland. </div><div>Lichens are fascinating composite organisms, in which a fungus and a blue-green alga live together in a mutually beneficial relationship.</div><div>Top centre you can also see a 22-spot Ladybird (Psyllobora vigintiduopunctata), yellow with black spots. </div><div>Nature is so wonderfully diverse when you look at it closely, isn't it!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXe4oJxljj7nVCDFelHKgeP1m49IEhfqP6USzf0dtUOzNSYAhEAsPjFK2BB2fPC_6MHkfo5iL2Pg80mthROw0ODW3i5z7Ro5-g1rsNTEyacZ7m8MO0Fec26WFnH-UeA-pBdAdd7MIZMB6C-6x4l3BPAzG19Ozdw8wDM2tscJdXtYgU-AkplHaUY2GpA/s1944/IMG_20230316_164151%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="1458" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXe4oJxljj7nVCDFelHKgeP1m49IEhfqP6USzf0dtUOzNSYAhEAsPjFK2BB2fPC_6MHkfo5iL2Pg80mthROw0ODW3i5z7Ro5-g1rsNTEyacZ7m8MO0Fec26WFnH-UeA-pBdAdd7MIZMB6C-6x4l3BPAzG19Ozdw8wDM2tscJdXtYgU-AkplHaUY2GpA/s320/IMG_20230316_164151%20(2).jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div></span><p></p><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-28819651243824454272023-03-11T22:32:00.001+01:002023-03-11T22:32:48.952+01:00Celebrating creation in Lent - Part 3: 2nd Sunday in Lent to Saturday 4th March<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Sunday 5th March</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Our winter flowering cherry has been blooming for a few weeks now, only now reaching its peak close to our front door. It is Prunus x subhirtella ‘Autumnalis Rosea’ - another Japanese cherry, with shocking pink blossom on bare twigs. It is frequented by early bees, and regularly visited by Bull finches, which peck at its buds, but that doesn't seem to diminsh its display with us. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When I planted it in 2001, I had really intended to get the straight P. 'Autumnalis', which grows in many old gardens locally and flowers sporadically with white flowers from November through winter to spring, but the nursery trade seems to have delisted that in favour of 'Atumnalis Rosea', which starts to bloom in February, and is much showier.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnVgxA9yIIt3NoPrLBToI69j7abNHoZlnLSV5VElcVhrUgVofY4PUdX93o4hE95-hmM4cAGwx0V4JXKL3RSFC7oRLnijYNxyOVcodBlPx_x7tOMhLU9q5OzPt-viRKGb3nsJM3nwJurL0WJz8Bi4kJTZF-oQSg_rXGbwsQ7QnlI5dB66PNVun_c3wuA/s1491/IMG_20230305_093149%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1491" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnVgxA9yIIt3NoPrLBToI69j7abNHoZlnLSV5VElcVhrUgVofY4PUdX93o4hE95-hmM4cAGwx0V4JXKL3RSFC7oRLnijYNxyOVcodBlPx_x7tOMhLU9q5OzPt-viRKGb3nsJM3nwJurL0WJz8Bi4kJTZF-oQSg_rXGbwsQ7QnlI5dB66PNVun_c3wuA/s320/IMG_20230305_093149%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Monday 6th March</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="font-size: large;">So often, I fear, we overlook common wildflowers in our gardens, or even root them out. These lovely golden shuttlecocks are the flowers of the wild native Lesser Celandine, growing at the base of a lime tree in our wildflower meadow. I also like the marbling on the glossy leaves, more marked on some plants than others. The scientific name is Ficaria verna. It is the first of the many wild native buttercups to flower.</div><div style="font-size: large;">A ruder common name for this lovely plant is Pilewort. Herbalists following the doctrine of signatures used it to treat piles, as the knobbly roots reminded them of haemerrhoids.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZXXJ2YA88UO1vq5UYxryG89ZA4y5AA3y1faMz1wYABDT1_SS4QTZYfve6eEK1RRh1t_ixBpbWa9SfXbSsxP1_M1vxKnYNmJCwKBMxnQnNzWN17nWdYFlh8UiBMuqIDg92Oh-9-EuQqVot-7kwUJbmoZMBHzu6POP8R2PrF69-SGlccS6qdJAEmcd2A/s1525/IMG_20230306_122232%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1257" data-original-width="1525" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZXXJ2YA88UO1vq5UYxryG89ZA4y5AA3y1faMz1wYABDT1_SS4QTZYfve6eEK1RRh1t_ixBpbWa9SfXbSsxP1_M1vxKnYNmJCwKBMxnQnNzWN17nWdYFlh8UiBMuqIDg92Oh-9-EuQqVot-7kwUJbmoZMBHzu6POP8R2PrF69-SGlccS6qdJAEmcd2A/s320/IMG_20230306_122232%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-size: large;">Tuesday 7th March</span></div><div style="font-size: large;"><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">My wife Marty likes hellebores, and she bought several different plants years ago. Now they are spreading by seed, producing even more different kinds, providing plenty of interest at this time of year. Most are 'Lenten Roses', not roses at all of course, but cultivars of Helleborus x hybridus in shades running through dark maroon, almost black, through pink and yellow to green and white. But even prettier to my eye are plants of Stinking Hellebore, H. foetidus, with its tall sprays of drooping green bells tipped with maroon, set off by lovely palmate dark leaves.</span></div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWkEjonatvLkV-eG7VESKs06bOyVYp2Ae6909of5ARAYMaq8veBJETogjCK3dX1FGwIHUiwyI5_FBD1rksswjYI6luYjYZq1hbxqSvy8891VXRZVZLMm97iCp8-pXDAJ_CvB-nP87yVzdN_PSrtsEmBzD676Q7FIilSVzqmnCF-5_26RdjntIEym4VQ/s2778/IMG_20230307_152411.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2778" data-original-width="2084" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWkEjonatvLkV-eG7VESKs06bOyVYp2Ae6909of5ARAYMaq8veBJETogjCK3dX1FGwIHUiwyI5_FBD1rksswjYI6luYjYZq1hbxqSvy8891VXRZVZLMm97iCp8-pXDAJ_CvB-nP87yVzdN_PSrtsEmBzD676Q7FIilSVzqmnCF-5_26RdjntIEym4VQ/s320/IMG_20230307_152411.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxp7g6OYBysHZ4p5Q-cdGX8c4NAG5bAfKAmfmsUsM_S5ggZpLWMe5qt6RyughK2dkBbKK3XN2n43llOzgCvSdQ6JbLQIXeR5ZKdpbL-aEzYCjnB6kAo1MsHFDIBdMMW1-E-cx-isq0RPSOxCGltCFun73caWBSNn6UfgWYrKbhyD-UiPpi9WHLdkSRg/s2563/IMG_20230307_152455.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2563" data-original-width="1781" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxp7g6OYBysHZ4p5Q-cdGX8c4NAG5bAfKAmfmsUsM_S5ggZpLWMe5qt6RyughK2dkBbKK3XN2n43llOzgCvSdQ6JbLQIXeR5ZKdpbL-aEzYCjnB6kAo1MsHFDIBdMMW1-E-cx-isq0RPSOxCGltCFun73caWBSNn6UfgWYrKbhyD-UiPpi9WHLdkSRg/s320/IMG_20230307_152455.jpg" width="222" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1tQ8rh3pH1wQJrnvSjWjN5wgODlPWyh00SzyeWCrglpJkv3S48LnLhZx_RzThHUqfyqZ1Z2TjjsTkG1BDDG9zqL0jEpWWCT9ghLZi0ojW1NfaiMaS2kuBHPgPZ17uOh2tkKvySU7awveo025EtgxCvRdh8H5-hCm6GYNGdIL4iYOMlrJnyZDl_qibg/s3968/IMG_20230307_152230.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3968" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1tQ8rh3pH1wQJrnvSjWjN5wgODlPWyh00SzyeWCrglpJkv3S48LnLhZx_RzThHUqfyqZ1Z2TjjsTkG1BDDG9zqL0jEpWWCT9ghLZi0ojW1NfaiMaS2kuBHPgPZ17uOh2tkKvySU7awveo025EtgxCvRdh8H5-hCm6GYNGdIL4iYOMlrJnyZDl_qibg/s320/IMG_20230307_152230.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday 8th March</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The native yellow primroses (Primula vulgaris ssp vulgaris) are starting to bloom at last, on the hedge bank behind our house. They are quite a bit later than their purple cousin the Sibthorp primrose, with which they hybridise. They were here when we bought the house, almost new and un-gardened in 2000, so they are truly wild, and spreading from seed, well away from their purple cousins. As you can see, someone has been eating petals - I don't know if it is slugs, or insects, or birds pecking. How generous nature is to bless us with such beautiful wildflowers!</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvXm3ITFz3TKajIRUPVkKPM6vSQZQm0gfUUaevEYjTWQI393wHSVW-smHOIkOFhyyM3FXiLb0otSv0jRZT6ZIFHFNgLMYlGjh3yElNu3vWH8l1we7XX7jIdtjlEXS8WRDw5tWmFKjrOcRm2yh7rgcO6pfTmbNte9XwRstaYdm-3EWaEN4eLVRnt-MEQ/s2777/IMG_20230308_115429.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2777" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvXm3ITFz3TKajIRUPVkKPM6vSQZQm0gfUUaevEYjTWQI393wHSVW-smHOIkOFhyyM3FXiLb0otSv0jRZT6ZIFHFNgLMYlGjh3yElNu3vWH8l1we7XX7jIdtjlEXS8WRDw5tWmFKjrOcRm2yh7rgcO6pfTmbNte9XwRstaYdm-3EWaEN4eLVRnt-MEQ/s320/IMG_20230308_115429.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;">Thursday 9th March</span></div><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Today has not been conducive to wandering about the garden taking photos! This is what greeted us through the windows when we got up in the morning - a winter wonderland. Sleet and snow alternated throughout the day, and I fear tomorrow will be no better. Take care everybody...</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">How grateful we were this evening for our little Morsø Squirrel woodburning stove, as we watched Adam Dalgleish and the lights flickered!</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qBcWiGO_MDIrkrlkjn-E-kDhbwjksM235HXYI68ghvSfv9N2z4m5butEZhNl75Nxer4mKrNBXup6o1zitwT5jSwWtMKWKgPIbDKWZwZWB1WxIwuIskpZmpU8E3KBZQNCeD6ya6h075bdBVexzubJW5_xcG-7oJ5rH4cIV7U5ptX7ycw9doxTjCzx0A/s3968/IMG_20230309_083929.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3968" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qBcWiGO_MDIrkrlkjn-E-kDhbwjksM235HXYI68ghvSfv9N2z4m5butEZhNl75Nxer4mKrNBXup6o1zitwT5jSwWtMKWKgPIbDKWZwZWB1WxIwuIskpZmpU8E3KBZQNCeD6ya6h075bdBVexzubJW5_xcG-7oJ5rH4cIV7U5ptX7ycw9doxTjCzx0A/s320/IMG_20230309_083929.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kx8d8-74BAHW0mNb2zU_zTjEEdfdMHKLfQszxaubM6TqC8RK2qrVs5DIyWHE3qckZ4OmVF5cHESCFhhBAmaWMaA8TIq4YpEn4hA6WAxF0JDwhet9YS_eELY4V85t5XhQbRfE4pXTklL8tMYfI-GkAkfOYGKcqjl25DRCAk5Vn__3NlCUIWv5UhdPEw/s3476/IMG_20230309_094053.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1606" data-original-width="3476" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kx8d8-74BAHW0mNb2zU_zTjEEdfdMHKLfQszxaubM6TqC8RK2qrVs5DIyWHE3qckZ4OmVF5cHESCFhhBAmaWMaA8TIq4YpEn4hA6WAxF0JDwhet9YS_eELY4V85t5XhQbRfE4pXTklL8tMYfI-GkAkfOYGKcqjl25DRCAk5Vn__3NlCUIWv5UhdPEw/s320/IMG_20230309_094053.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWSZNPn5Fzd3QX2pz8lao-qIfl_pJ1yk7TzKulbNSV2NFBjESyXLi66X3VFtfNUNjIT5dHB5TBD63NpNP4_zrpFAT8hh_-VfZv85VHi6al1WSsfoPlfZFEHM-8Gu_ivoPnOhXYXk2Sbo9nFPHwywuTExKh77fHiaoH-ocqyZP-lKcE13y1QM0R7zI5yw/s2777/IMG_20230309_094126.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2777" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWSZNPn5Fzd3QX2pz8lao-qIfl_pJ1yk7TzKulbNSV2NFBjESyXLi66X3VFtfNUNjIT5dHB5TBD63NpNP4_zrpFAT8hh_-VfZv85VHi6al1WSsfoPlfZFEHM-8Gu_ivoPnOhXYXk2Sbo9nFPHwywuTExKh77fHiaoH-ocqyZP-lKcE13y1QM0R7zI5yw/s320/IMG_20230309_094126.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh4FxNir6Lb4-7agRKdOjY3s_GQdXCV8ZaoZpNncEMQmZ4o5p074XjNlQ1KrKnRpp2USi40FCjwcyZTWx3PZdA9JAnQFpUKQ2t7oXYWFpSHVbKBt-MM1tBtm3rUWIQqksjdX5Syo-rJhn5Gh3qvv1hb6LM9Ap4HtgFfMgvHlF8HPHkS4h2XO8WiAlcQ/s2777/IMG_20230309_095256.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2777" data-original-width="2083" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh4FxNir6Lb4-7agRKdOjY3s_GQdXCV8ZaoZpNncEMQmZ4o5p074XjNlQ1KrKnRpp2USi40FCjwcyZTWx3PZdA9JAnQFpUKQ2t7oXYWFpSHVbKBt-MM1tBtm3rUWIQqksjdX5Syo-rJhn5Gh3qvv1hb6LM9Ap4HtgFfMgvHlF8HPHkS4h2XO8WiAlcQ/s320/IMG_20230309_095256.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Friday 10th March</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div>I learned the name of this pretty plant as 'Soldiers & Sailors' as a child, and we still grow it in our garden. The red flowers turn blue as they age. Army officers' full dress uniforms are red, while sailors' are blue - hence the name.</div><div>Another common name is Lungwort, and its scientific name is Pulmonaria officianalis. It is not a native plant in Britain and Ireland, but is widely naturalised in Britain, much less so in Ireland, as you can see from the recently published Plant Atlas 2020 (https://plantatlas2020.org/atlas/2cd4p9h.vs2).</div><div><br /></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQfBh2OMclfz2Py9ZcVDsOYlIKO6BMGciik21HBiIDdcPCmJtoe-SAETZc_vYBvdjD6KV6iufNY1hS1mL8DLeifDK1d_LoaGI_87-msHiDvrIS5jBUdsZNujJHvLr_-JUal4qmicGFMPGU1B906dLRzLVEnh0UCuSHL45q3TxaONDfADp-Ki-mBA4ow/s1066/IMG_20230305_103112%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="821" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQfBh2OMclfz2Py9ZcVDsOYlIKO6BMGciik21HBiIDdcPCmJtoe-SAETZc_vYBvdjD6KV6iufNY1hS1mL8DLeifDK1d_LoaGI_87-msHiDvrIS5jBUdsZNujJHvLr_-JUal4qmicGFMPGU1B906dLRzLVEnh0UCuSHL45q3TxaONDfADp-Ki-mBA4ow/s320/IMG_20230305_103112%20(2).jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday 11th March</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div>A very drisly, dank and overcast day, but that hasn't stopped these hyacinths from opening their glorious blue bells, as if to shame the heavens. These look ready to shake themselves like wet dogs!</div><div>After hyacinths in pots have bloomed, they are always planted out in Marty's Labyrinth garden. Over the years the bulbs tend to produce more stems with fewer flowers, which we can pick and bring into the house to enjoy their heady perfume.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDDJRq308EJyATz69hwqAZWRYtZ6_2ebSP7s5hDY9LwZuL9a1awf_4b-NqaKJA-n8d35BvNNyFWbpAAe6EbPNh-uLqjx_OKOQH6IdonzBG11hgS56xtMeGQT1AjA-skCbCz0Iq7gHx4cq3ZhLRVjZzPRmQKcVzefdsM5DWvrmIGGvHHjA0zkVloxF5g/s3419/IMG_20230311_142236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2548" data-original-width="3419" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDDJRq308EJyATz69hwqAZWRYtZ6_2ebSP7s5hDY9LwZuL9a1awf_4b-NqaKJA-n8d35BvNNyFWbpAAe6EbPNh-uLqjx_OKOQH6IdonzBG11hgS56xtMeGQT1AjA-skCbCz0Iq7gHx4cq3ZhLRVjZzPRmQKcVzefdsM5DWvrmIGGvHHjA0zkVloxF5g/s320/IMG_20230311_142236.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></span></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-38624784498964049352023-03-05T00:05:00.000+01:002023-03-05T00:05:39.056+01:00Celebrating creation in Lent - Part 2: 1st Sunday in Lent to Saturday 4th March<p><span style="font-size: large;"> 1st Sunday in Lent, 26th February</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We have been blessed with a beautiful sunset this evening - we get so many here, and every one is different!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCxvPcryXsXSpFPeX0SQJK0u7r4KslD8HlZjL-UK1Mi95YGsZaFvXnbevi8RuCsMugG_bQe2aTQKxbbpB1KRt1G0v7ztxvz8VTCedQnJWasq5C7RU33LFTwnHnYI06nK0Vg578vfQK4UAXjQ10lqpCeU_BpThzJboO_np86fZElNlXRVlqT9gJXsEOw/s688/IMG_20230226_175649.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="688" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCxvPcryXsXSpFPeX0SQJK0u7r4KslD8HlZjL-UK1Mi95YGsZaFvXnbevi8RuCsMugG_bQe2aTQKxbbpB1KRt1G0v7ztxvz8VTCedQnJWasq5C7RU33LFTwnHnYI06nK0Vg578vfQK4UAXjQ10lqpCeU_BpThzJboO_np86fZElNlXRVlqT9gJXsEOw/s320/IMG_20230226_175649.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Monday 27th February</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">These pollarded willows give us great winter colour, ranging from bright yellow through orange to burgandy, as well as providing useful rods. They will be cut down to the stumps in early March, allowing the wildflowers in the bed in front to flower in the sun. Over the summer they will grow again a full eight foot to provide us with flames of colour over the winter. They would also be good for living willow sculptures and play houses. If anyone would like cuttings, just ask!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmoC-Enuj0NCGQbeR-FGbcq-4Kn98q21d6CMvZzmHiCJG5ejQCIdvY2gIBZA1gbX9_zTRfGLCRPPiKN6ja6l03dyZj5dZoPgj3sVtJrwwehu47BKzGiXZWEGCInXUyrEvQgYB3I068EuecrsYVO3DdzwJRDwtyMmV47Nx5wk-xhv8FUefq0UJBBeZjw/s2778/IMG_20230224_155647.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2778" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmoC-Enuj0NCGQbeR-FGbcq-4Kn98q21d6CMvZzmHiCJG5ejQCIdvY2gIBZA1gbX9_zTRfGLCRPPiKN6ja6l03dyZj5dZoPgj3sVtJrwwehu47BKzGiXZWEGCInXUyrEvQgYB3I068EuecrsYVO3DdzwJRDwtyMmV47Nx5wk-xhv8FUefq0UJBBeZjw/s320/IMG_20230224_155647.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tuesday 28th February</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Daffodils for St David's Day, tomorrow the 1st of March, for all my Welsh family and friends!</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">They are volunteers, which came with top soil after our extension had been completed almost 20 years ago, so many that I mowed them down where they were not wanted. They come in two kinds:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"># The earliest are these old-fashioned double daffodils. I'm not perfectly certain of their identity, but I think they may be 'Van Sion', first recorded 400 years ago. They can be found in a lot of old and abandoned gardens. They do not produce any seed, but clump up well as you can see.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"># A little later comes a daffodil with pale yellow tepals and a darker trumpet, a cultivar of the wild species Narcissus pseudonarcissus, but somewhat larger. They aren't properly out yet, so I'll post about them another time.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0ZnH60qWyefkmEoQP1DNRWDklnjEeybI6TxMTllNsFMCDB8OCHtkdDtzq4NIVa8S74fjlmBTP1vy23gy9VeaKTzfvFEcX2yKSlqNEI5hor4K567S_8Hh_BOpeKIMRP116j5BUEn-2dd5bN3jl1hvNuE-9J1F4P-Rq7Ux4umb-_p1DREcKWKJYd9qSg/s3968/IMG_20230228_123615.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="3968" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0ZnH60qWyefkmEoQP1DNRWDklnjEeybI6TxMTllNsFMCDB8OCHtkdDtzq4NIVa8S74fjlmBTP1vy23gy9VeaKTzfvFEcX2yKSlqNEI5hor4K567S_8Hh_BOpeKIMRP116j5BUEn-2dd5bN3jl1hvNuE-9J1F4P-Rq7Ux4umb-_p1DREcKWKJYd9qSg/s320/IMG_20230228_123615.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday 1st March</span><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Sant hapus!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Some more daffodils for St David's day proper. Marty had these front of the house in pots years ago, but they ended up on the compost heap, where they flourish still. Every year I mean to move them somewhere more fitting...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqWrWnJ-qv7LH_DkikNRTzqwEge82aCBrXrqlKJA1PcTwb2EJpp0WcvtCVZLT2M-1jEX_Msbc4AgGQmryDMUmoffZ5MzqMPZe_PLJCHFvIF-78qcu_q9F91wrs5_yseYK9C_xU-GKYKxFxX7uH68r4FaFKTVQJI3oPYi5wzfHYtREo1eI8BQFhRW_3g/s2778/IMG_20230301_130009.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2778" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqWrWnJ-qv7LH_DkikNRTzqwEge82aCBrXrqlKJA1PcTwb2EJpp0WcvtCVZLT2M-1jEX_Msbc4AgGQmryDMUmoffZ5MzqMPZe_PLJCHFvIF-78qcu_q9F91wrs5_yseYK9C_xU-GKYKxFxX7uH68r4FaFKTVQJI3oPYi5wzfHYtREo1eI8BQFhRW_3g/s320/IMG_20230301_130009.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Thursday 2nd March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Bergenias, cultivars of B. crassifolia in the Saxifrage family, sometimes called 'elephant's ears', are a marvellous spring-flowering groundcover plant. They come in many different shades of pink, shading to purple and red, as well as white. They are tough as old boots, strike easily from segments of rhizomes, and clump up well.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Ours, which came from my aunt Sally's house, are a delicate pink. They have been flowering for weeks and are now at their best.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9Jgw61G9oP5zPluE0SqeiH3DxNLcgQ8HCnLvqnfg7A7Ubpmcc7XCu0OhDH-kYkxFDMfnngSOpEMkPuaqRakpXYH1AwrOt8-pVF7lYmjKKwj6BlT37sH3OK3V_ZglbhARs82sd-i25r4BiZk28wBKK3VESI3QcEPJkPgEaqabEUs9JR42ySifD4wBDA/s3671/IMG_20230301_125606.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2723" data-original-width="3671" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9Jgw61G9oP5zPluE0SqeiH3DxNLcgQ8HCnLvqnfg7A7Ubpmcc7XCu0OhDH-kYkxFDMfnngSOpEMkPuaqRakpXYH1AwrOt8-pVF7lYmjKKwj6BlT37sH3OK3V_ZglbhARs82sd-i25r4BiZk28wBKK3VESI3QcEPJkPgEaqabEUs9JR42ySifD4wBDA/s320/IMG_20230301_125606.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Friday 3rd March</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Some years ago my brother and sister-in-law gave me a present of this charming Japanese cherry, Prunus incisa "Kojo-no-mai", which is just coming into bloom. It is really a shrub, growing to little more than 2 metres, and needs no pruning or other maintenance. It looks rather dull for most of the year, but for a few weeks in Spring it is a stunner, covered with delicate white blossoms emerging from pink buds. The Japanese name means 'flight of butterflies'.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiNkzzU0mSNsQKOSiQ0iNKBDZyws4y8C7MWTd51_LeU-ZA1janCou-oir5kezR-GE3hYMqLGKsXjCKUjkqDXD0bkBXI61mmWoWUj88EsLedhuGoj-j6Be6ZhK-bBJrAjwNJTFJzt_4Zc_rq0ifXgt1C5oLRnHKNoq9Lp4-IRXZsBp-44K1Y6f3M3WBQ/s3010/IMG_20230303_123221.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3010" data-original-width="2045" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiNkzzU0mSNsQKOSiQ0iNKBDZyws4y8C7MWTd51_LeU-ZA1janCou-oir5kezR-GE3hYMqLGKsXjCKUjkqDXD0bkBXI61mmWoWUj88EsLedhuGoj-j6Be6ZhK-bBJrAjwNJTFJzt_4Zc_rq0ifXgt1C5oLRnHKNoq9Lp4-IRXZsBp-44K1Y6f3M3WBQ/s320/IMG_20230303_123221.jpg" width="217" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHRiYa6T6aYknHZFe1GzOtYH9tDHh3-ZqwCUShkLTmZi1qJ1qXVsZAF9JiFa1xqfwxgxt1HNyy4mNUk4zSnoaZfXxzblpMJ6vJuZ0k9u5fxfdoJj0n3u7woikEoBdTQnQxL1gqSuRZLFdMY4pOv-eC6vlG_4vgsPjVGoSEKTNiZruZrF9uqqTbK2gjA/s3968/IMG_20230303_123309.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="3968" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHRiYa6T6aYknHZFe1GzOtYH9tDHh3-ZqwCUShkLTmZi1qJ1qXVsZAF9JiFa1xqfwxgxt1HNyy4mNUk4zSnoaZfXxzblpMJ6vJuZ0k9u5fxfdoJj0n3u7woikEoBdTQnQxL1gqSuRZLFdMY4pOv-eC6vlG_4vgsPjVGoSEKTNiZruZrF9uqqTbK2gjA/s320/IMG_20230303_123309.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday 4th February</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><br /></div><div>These scrumptious white double primroses came originally from my brother Tom. They multiple easily from division, and seem to be more vigorous than other doubles - I used to collect them, but all the other kinds have been lost.</div><div>One of the lovely things about private gardens is the memories they invoke, of people who gave you plants, or places where you bought them, or collected seeds. How we are blessed by the memories!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-PbeFNHLnaUohVoABwqUY7_yrgf20sRjL89OJRYqPEa6Vd6FkmopaYO8ceXbE_6X0br14x03TyNdXHZEx8XxliPeeij_crsv6Jm8aXY6St4a526ddaZhN0jmq3lIND6oJkeTY8bE1LYamWXqsUadKefmhLep8jiAS_4GdB8PefzHjLnNGqX4SMSFAA/s2950/IMG_20230303_123404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="2950" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-PbeFNHLnaUohVoABwqUY7_yrgf20sRjL89OJRYqPEa6Vd6FkmopaYO8ceXbE_6X0br14x03TyNdXHZEx8XxliPeeij_crsv6Jm8aXY6St4a526ddaZhN0jmq3lIND6oJkeTY8bE1LYamWXqsUadKefmhLep8jiAS_4GdB8PefzHjLnNGqX4SMSFAA/s320/IMG_20230303_123404.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div><p></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-38760060191892044642023-03-02T12:46:00.001+01:002023-03-03T23:51:13.403+01:00Celebrating creation in Lent - Part 1: Ash Wednesday to Saturday 25th February<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Ash Wednesday, 22nd February</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Ja55HakGeapVso32qdMN6k5ljQP3a3EihrAMrgweVRBE-DDv_2lupvf5Wtvduz4QMord3saYrKd8gw5YpCGZx8Wsp3wW_-2aUMo9yHzDONLLoI1AFUu4g0kteht0vSazZlxlXhXVrg9UshpwpHXqYd5qudPuJKJF6gy9UofVKzO9Yy0lJSB1FkH8Qg/s2743/IMG_20230220_140141.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2743" data-original-width="2217" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Ja55HakGeapVso32qdMN6k5ljQP3a3EihrAMrgweVRBE-DDv_2lupvf5Wtvduz4QMord3saYrKd8gw5YpCGZx8Wsp3wW_-2aUMo9yHzDONLLoI1AFUu4g0kteht0vSazZlxlXhXVrg9UshpwpHXqYd5qudPuJKJF6gy9UofVKzO9Yy0lJSB1FkH8Qg/s320/IMG_20230220_140141.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCOk81y5ldirL9hjPgKxyQHRhKvQjrQVQ-NMiIU6otdDc6THDH7-YdLnkRHnOXLd4wFv3qnDrao0uwy5rzsHEMHjwokSD_wRoeMdpNDaZ5NyOUHLutt7LLewWScJeWYcEurrFjbWg_GA1fvNIRZY8on7Srl4kioPH6-awlJ08BQrDDGQenfhbXTk2bA/s2777/IMG_20230220_142026.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2084" data-original-width="2777" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCOk81y5ldirL9hjPgKxyQHRhKvQjrQVQ-NMiIU6otdDc6THDH7-YdLnkRHnOXLd4wFv3qnDrao0uwy5rzsHEMHjwokSD_wRoeMdpNDaZ5NyOUHLutt7LLewWScJeWYcEurrFjbWg_GA1fvNIRZY8on7Srl4kioPH6-awlJ08BQrDDGQenfhbXTk2bA/s320/IMG_20230220_142026.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">These primroses are giving me pleasure today. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The rich purple one is Sibthorp's primrose (Primula vulgaris ssp. sibthorpii), from the Balkans and Turkey, an earlier flowering cousin of our native yellow primrose (P. vulgaris ssp vulgaris). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">They hybridise in the garden I share - the pinky primrose is a hybrid between the two.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thursday February 23rd</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgqZn3lBuCGpHryAXTIuPhUHE2jqELiK1QEiXg_oJhZRRqZ90HJORDLvlIoiCCb8GKNoIljRxLkiw5Xr65T0fQlklrbqwiJlSqPyYMD-8C_t5PMB63pFJpL-ndiAdLNb_DkM5P6qg7WjqQ4R9yqxPfG21AbUC8z-3yTmofNdzV_H--C_loX_NE3SqTg/s2451/IMG_20230223_151111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1762" data-original-width="2451" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgqZn3lBuCGpHryAXTIuPhUHE2jqELiK1QEiXg_oJhZRRqZ90HJORDLvlIoiCCb8GKNoIljRxLkiw5Xr65T0fQlklrbqwiJlSqPyYMD-8C_t5PMB63pFJpL-ndiAdLNb_DkM5P6qg7WjqQ4R9yqxPfG21AbUC8z-3yTmofNdzV_H--C_loX_NE3SqTg/s320/IMG_20230223_151111.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">These miniature daffodils, barely 8 inches tall, have charmed me today. I call them my Clonteem daffodils, as the family legend is that they came from my Grandmother's childhood home of that name in Co Roscommon. She passed them on to my mother, who in turn passed them on to me. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I now believe they are actually a true wild species, Narcissus asturiensis, from the mountains of North Portugal and Spain. I would love to know how they ended up here in Ireland.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Friday February 24th</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipr9kWM5gwv_5HaKwzazncK_tFsMTg0PmfUwKNXw4AAlh0NmCLPkMIy05ExA4-0IrelwR2lSC3DYdwNK4SkdhW1O9QRQg-NrtJ-PhX6JhF2R0SDyLKkNFLdJ_IKItqNqwKritS94rhhUubB3M1NmSvTk98QiqfUkqJcVmVudrAT5QliNlR3SWRULH2KA/s2002/IMG_20230224_125218.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2002" data-original-width="1484" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipr9kWM5gwv_5HaKwzazncK_tFsMTg0PmfUwKNXw4AAlh0NmCLPkMIy05ExA4-0IrelwR2lSC3DYdwNK4SkdhW1O9QRQg-NrtJ-PhX6JhF2R0SDyLKkNFLdJ_IKItqNqwKritS94rhhUubB3M1NmSvTk98QiqfUkqJcVmVudrAT5QliNlR3SWRULH2KA/s320/IMG_20230224_125218.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBcn1EDuZTW6Rcy1yFL_CJL8X6TQQVC2HQ2tql58qwtvrnZFrbxWQZmdIRlop4nFJ2IkBcYXA_92nFQGMXqPwOfkXXjQA1p7uqBBXNiHHeuiCrK0YwBKKHIFsoNcFABE7q7gFliKE7M-1BolKiF5WtLKm2UB90X9Axh8zJCYcS5H6IcyKAj6up4CXKg/s3968/IMG_20230224_155351.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3968" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBcn1EDuZTW6Rcy1yFL_CJL8X6TQQVC2HQ2tql58qwtvrnZFrbxWQZmdIRlop4nFJ2IkBcYXA_92nFQGMXqPwOfkXXjQA1p7uqBBXNiHHeuiCrK0YwBKKHIFsoNcFABE7q7gFliKE7M-1BolKiF5WtLKm2UB90X9Axh8zJCYcS5H6IcyKAj6up4CXKg/s320/IMG_20230224_155351.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Two more dainty spring flowers spotted in the garden today:</span></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Blue Siberian Squill (Scilla siberica). It is starting to multiply in the wildflower meadow (now more a woodland glade as the trees in the lime alley form a canopy).</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Spring Snowflake (Leucojum vernum), growing in the wilderness. It was naturalised at my aunt's house, from whence this plant came.</span></li></ul></div></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday February 25th</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqukGSisAS-E-USebsW016CRjFELneHodDtV4uh6ejkBgCr70qJUvYOvPjpSdM5RVKXXmjfG1T8-HbReU6A_AFFzQ6AOLDlX-o--pJeJThqd-kqh26gZSNWY-0MmLMW44uJQf_6YCAP9tPMQWTD6WseArPv6WxWV7O1LYBxZrtnnBxBBUWpLkMjyhbw/s3968/IMG_20230225_113841.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="3968" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqukGSisAS-E-USebsW016CRjFELneHodDtV4uh6ejkBgCr70qJUvYOvPjpSdM5RVKXXmjfG1T8-HbReU6A_AFFzQ6AOLDlX-o--pJeJThqd-kqh26gZSNWY-0MmLMW44uJQf_6YCAP9tPMQWTD6WseArPv6WxWV7O1LYBxZrtnnBxBBUWpLkMjyhbw/s320/IMG_20230225_113841.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Lynda Christian is a talented artist living in Ballina, the other side of the Shannon from Killaloe. She recently posted a photo of the 'rag tree' she created some years ago for St Flannan's Cathedral, climbing up an inside wall for folk to attach ribbons in memory of loved ones. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The photo is of some of Lynda's work in our garden: roses made from metal clipped from tins, bent into shape and painted, and attached to wire. I gave them as a present to Marty, who complained of the lack of colour in her labyrinth garden during the winter. We also have some holyhocks she made in the same way. Lynda has since moved on to other media, so sadly I cannot acquire any more.</span></div></div><p><br /></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-49506064661167654162022-06-30T19:44:00.006+01:002022-06-30T22:04:24.576+01:00The Garden at the end of June<p>Today, on the last day of June, the roses are beginning to go over. They've been lovely this month, but the recent wind and rain has left them bedraggled. Their beauty is fleeting, as human beauty is, and we must enjoy it while we may, and look forward to beauty yet to come...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaM56pllgWicEJvBl1J4FDSkwFC1HahFPfbClhZ7oTGWKMYZU3dhTEu7wDYN4gUJgaHFPZjfwgum_vYhf3Aj4WDy5RIHR-NbYqnXDaYoUEO3T7nJzgr5lWBUDWm_e8-u0d2Xg3kBaoRI7tjatgjGEVIvFvw2Xjym_6N9-iDqAZFC7o3LR4W0d-gCQirw/s2673/IMG_20220630_155529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2673" data-original-width="2056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaM56pllgWicEJvBl1J4FDSkwFC1HahFPfbClhZ7oTGWKMYZU3dhTEu7wDYN4gUJgaHFPZjfwgum_vYhf3Aj4WDy5RIHR-NbYqnXDaYoUEO3T7nJzgr5lWBUDWm_e8-u0d2Xg3kBaoRI7tjatgjGEVIvFvw2Xjym_6N9-iDqAZFC7o3LR4W0d-gCQirw/s320/IMG_20220630_155529.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A full blown David Austen rose <br />- but who can tell me which one?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjSmTtjRjR9d5lQltT1loLHUNyAQ80r9e7SWD7RklOXE9xcbpKPrZq_KTkNWkmXv51frbdEM6KZehii9uQXdXHFy-MbiV15zHhuWLFzVJR4SFtGWrjNMhy4BAJa-Dm2f-ZXIbS_UH24xfVYjCcmGcvxm_sHqGFMGxAwG_8BipUJBpYX0hpxYcxm707g/s3968/IMG_20220630_155120.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3968" data-original-width="2976" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjSmTtjRjR9d5lQltT1loLHUNyAQ80r9e7SWD7RklOXE9xcbpKPrZq_KTkNWkmXv51frbdEM6KZehii9uQXdXHFy-MbiV15zHhuWLFzVJR4SFtGWrjNMhy4BAJa-Dm2f-ZXIbS_UH24xfVYjCcmGcvxm_sHqGFMGxAwG_8BipUJBpYX0hpxYcxm707g/s320/IMG_20220630_155120.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another blousy yellow rose fading to pink</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaRB0srem4kJ8_V9KfSmOoGzz-dGNz-uonkUubAWoMMwMS6BmXraU7f9p2gQX-dZcBy3q71_826S3RCnuVQ5uTwamwwwKdgqCqpHUSNWTHBCH5ufhnNoJBN_sF1i4DeuYxpUKPuuIo0L4FhMwmV4GHu2wmCv8gq-Jjg3bBrFge7ytZS72Mq8sRum04Qw/s2778/IMG_20220630_155805%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2084" data-original-width="2778" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaRB0srem4kJ8_V9KfSmOoGzz-dGNz-uonkUubAWoMMwMS6BmXraU7f9p2gQX-dZcBy3q71_826S3RCnuVQ5uTwamwwwKdgqCqpHUSNWTHBCH5ufhnNoJBN_sF1i4DeuYxpUKPuuIo0L4FhMwmV4GHu2wmCv8gq-Jjg3bBrFge7ytZS72Mq8sRum04Qw/s320/IMG_20220630_155805%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rambling roses bedecking the espallier pear trees<br />- Belvedere, Veilchenblau, American Pillar</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWJjaia4cStfY9LbkDlWBtn9eYikklWu9Kt-ld8eFshNaO4JP7T0B08QB9blS-ZZYT7MEFxZGrvnsGtG0LvnUQnr7kQ1cAPxZDaDE8Pyrl7Tnby2MI0w6JFKrjIxnqYIuHBX0k-TumTt17G2xNRvj-Bta0jfcwry1UgWO1t1e1o29xmXgyuTjJEZq5g/s3968/IMG_20220630_155054.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="3968" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWJjaia4cStfY9LbkDlWBtn9eYikklWu9Kt-ld8eFshNaO4JP7T0B08QB9blS-ZZYT7MEFxZGrvnsGtG0LvnUQnr7kQ1cAPxZDaDE8Pyrl7Tnby2MI0w6JFKrjIxnqYIuHBX0k-TumTt17G2xNRvj-Bta0jfcwry1UgWO1t1e1o29xmXgyuTjJEZq5g/s320/IMG_20220630_155054.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Belvedere is rather too vigorous, but what a show!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>There is so much else in the garden too. Marty's labyrinth garden is particularly good this year, thanks to Geraldine the gardener who manages it for her.<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKc76vZEaVS4xe2uqSm28V_E0-0Alszq-YnReW4F3JqfP9PwzQhL-g0Yoy4ly_KmLLIXpeh4rj9dpOf0p34hygT9FMUM6Q9-NolbcVHzm6QjrLx63j4hGDapd_riygcFxW1A7s-xdGKv6E9pUQYMb2Trf5VYzThka2NokybimKjl8dg-DPsDd5Bm02ZQ/s3968/IMG_20220630_155245.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="3968" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKc76vZEaVS4xe2uqSm28V_E0-0Alszq-YnReW4F3JqfP9PwzQhL-g0Yoy4ly_KmLLIXpeh4rj9dpOf0p34hygT9FMUM6Q9-NolbcVHzm6QjrLx63j4hGDapd_riygcFxW1A7s-xdGKv6E9pUQYMb2Trf5VYzThka2NokybimKjl8dg-DPsDd5Bm02ZQ/s320/IMG_20220630_155245.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daylilies and Penstemon 'Purple Bedder' burning brightly <br />as the blue Lupins fade out</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHE_jiExk_r_AwkYHh08QA44pjLTIJXvIj6973O1Af9JK1xoJoKER_xGserGdO45v6MZyHyNEst-DxUL7IvtpknMvegEAX0mCVJ_acoCFm9yhdCFKKKJHYHRFrKTyfZPcV4zWZSKMvgZqEnrJa7xmNECji_OPuDPwT8BOGGY-G7pTWPaTgLyQ5ux8cw/s2778/IMG_20220630_155216.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2778" data-original-width="2083" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHE_jiExk_r_AwkYHh08QA44pjLTIJXvIj6973O1Af9JK1xoJoKER_xGserGdO45v6MZyHyNEst-DxUL7IvtpknMvegEAX0mCVJ_acoCFm9yhdCFKKKJHYHRFrKTyfZPcV4zWZSKMvgZqEnrJa7xmNECji_OPuDPwT8BOGGY-G7pTWPaTgLyQ5ux8cw/s320/IMG_20220630_155216.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philadelphus 'Belle Etoile'<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The whole garden is delightfully scented by Philadelphus 'Belle Etoile'. And since we had the sceptic tank pumped out it no longer has to compete with other fragrances!<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjIYY1drRpkkblD0c18iNZdAnFUo74dAxUeffeGZWSl_wCQRNLHeDhcznff5j4CeeBv3cxzieGKnlw1hPvD0lLkJsymyewqMb2WXBMbfW_GaHbq6EFiPeVIoxDTCZu1x3gHMhRNBmWwY6GxcGtLXa3W5qprI8kZWHKfu6vpqzU5ndrAoA8iUMgm2F0w/s2587/IMG_20220630_155408.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2587" data-original-width="2094" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjIYY1drRpkkblD0c18iNZdAnFUo74dAxUeffeGZWSl_wCQRNLHeDhcznff5j4CeeBv3cxzieGKnlw1hPvD0lLkJsymyewqMb2WXBMbfW_GaHbq6EFiPeVIoxDTCZu1x3gHMhRNBmWwY6GxcGtLXa3W5qprI8kZWHKfu6vpqzU5ndrAoA8iUMgm2F0w/s320/IMG_20220630_155408.jpg" width="259" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perennial Foxgloves<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>We have two forms of perenial foxgloves, a larger one and a smaller one. The bees love them both, but the smaller ones frustrate the large bumble bees which can't fit their bodies inside the finger. But something does manage to polinate them, because they are spreading all about.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmFBJWlnRZvofrtVtxjol70SeJJiru1qvBtf6i2gsADdgT2cDf0SzWdLHLZltWQOJS961NImMvTQEAwRmapgFsHsSM68yje7LjISSJwT005LGW7QwJkQwNhE_m82UP4aDMQJ_XGBgjKhUStwiQ1p1-d0X64rfek6B8_J_TH4DegY7d-uqK5PT_4_WnA/s2565/IMG_20220630_155602.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1748" data-original-width="2565" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmFBJWlnRZvofrtVtxjol70SeJJiru1qvBtf6i2gsADdgT2cDf0SzWdLHLZltWQOJS961NImMvTQEAwRmapgFsHsSM68yje7LjISSJwT005LGW7QwJkQwNhE_m82UP4aDMQJ_XGBgjKhUStwiQ1p1-d0X64rfek6B8_J_TH4DegY7d-uqK5PT_4_WnA/s320/IMG_20220630_155602.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Delphinium spires</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>The Delphiniums are just going over. Which reminds me I must ask Geraldine to leave some heads so that I can save the seed.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQsV2bRvAjKwd9v1HYcv5SKje6S-8GUJRjrxVAiBrn_z-1jStNZndgswkwjpQ-Rud4Ry5d9dm_T9UyM8TzjJG2EaeTsT8oOy4eK69xKI7hKij3ZBO8SK6CQE2AlqxgLSaHwv3Y9oudKC4TXIuEnfNv5eQ0u6vDxk20O22V42aBtKyvGakGjWCJvglZ7w/s1744/IMG_20220630_155913.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1744" data-original-width="1337" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQsV2bRvAjKwd9v1HYcv5SKje6S-8GUJRjrxVAiBrn_z-1jStNZndgswkwjpQ-Rud4Ry5d9dm_T9UyM8TzjJG2EaeTsT8oOy4eK69xKI7hKij3ZBO8SK6CQE2AlqxgLSaHwv3Y9oudKC4TXIuEnfNv5eQ0u6vDxk20O22V42aBtKyvGakGjWCJvglZ7w/s320/IMG_20220630_155913.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anthemis 'Grallagh Gold' with Salvia 'Hot Lips'</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Marty also has raised beds in the back for a cutting garden, and it too is splendid this year. Here we can see a real local which should be much more widely known and grown - 'Grallagh Gold'. It originated as a chance seedling in the garden at Grallagh, just outside Nenagh, where Mrs McCutcheon propogated it from cuttings. I was generously given some by one of her descendents.</div><div><br /></div><div>And finally we come to my part of the garden which I fear is terribly overgrown this year. I might claim to have been a good eco-warrior following a no-mow-May policy, but in truth I have just been unable to keep up with rampant growth. My age is telling on me, and I am becoming over-blown and blousy like the roses! But I am pleased at the way the wild flowers continue to do their thing in the Willow Border. Here you can see white Yarrow, purple Greater Knapweed, blue Meadow Cranesbill, and pink Red Campion.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMooZp1fzVhfeTxwWFstmkaWqBVu2ZokFT4YcDWDo3rMcceSN4y7_haLbppWKgWUU_vgYvRsVCPdGmmaF9FJXfAtuuAOq4rURMBjttaVJH72v2RhhHnVxFKhkVs3ASsfQoK9YCplzQ9KFkTWz3WA31esqgc8qlc7RJb1N-G9wNq490mfN7VBJHgy6Bw/s3968/IMG_20220630_114401.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="3968" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMooZp1fzVhfeTxwWFstmkaWqBVu2ZokFT4YcDWDo3rMcceSN4y7_haLbppWKgWUU_vgYvRsVCPdGmmaF9FJXfAtuuAOq4rURMBjttaVJH72v2RhhHnVxFKhkVs3ASsfQoK9YCplzQ9KFkTWz3WA31esqgc8qlc7RJb1N-G9wNq490mfN7VBJHgy6Bw/s320/IMG_20220630_114401.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wildflowers in the Willow Border</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-44267700808553817322022-04-07T10:53:00.002+00:002022-04-07T10:53:49.249+00:00God in the Garden in April<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This article appeared in the April 2022 issue of Newslink, the diocesan magazine for Limerick and Killaloe, part of the United Diocese of Tuam, Limerick & Killaloe. Photos by Joc Sanders</i></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1QAReCk9uenMkpFM3PONTnGINJFS1geD5_GkjTzLJ2KwDxaKahlR4lqu8Fl6yUW-YdsnXVVDAtoLW91SFav0fsunhRfTyqpYvn8fPJfdPeL-bHgcnkjigT8uRaufXMPLVgNxqKZiAKUeOke9__HXZQzwX2dkvf_vxUXZp0-i6G_NgDfy5P5hSEbV_w/s1307/Soft%20pink%20flowers%20of%20Magnolia%20'Leonard%20Messel'.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1307" data-original-width="1174" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1QAReCk9uenMkpFM3PONTnGINJFS1geD5_GkjTzLJ2KwDxaKahlR4lqu8Fl6yUW-YdsnXVVDAtoLW91SFav0fsunhRfTyqpYvn8fPJfdPeL-bHgcnkjigT8uRaufXMPLVgNxqKZiAKUeOke9__HXZQzwX2dkvf_vxUXZp0-i6G_NgDfy5P5hSEbV_w/s320/Soft%20pink%20flowers%20of%20Magnolia%20'Leonard%20Messel'.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Soft pink flowers of Magnolia 'Leonard Messel'</i></div></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Usually at this time of year my spirits
are high as I watch the new life of Spring accelerate away. But this year is
different – my spirits are low. A part of God’s wider garden is being ripped
apart as I write in mid-March. We are watching the crucifixion of the people of
Ukraine. The news is full of images of wrecked apartment buildings, images of
men saying goodbye to weeping wives and children fleeing as refugees, images of
men and women in uniform preparing to kill other men and women in any way they
can.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ordinary people and governments here
in Ireland and throughout Europe are responding with extraordinary generosity,
collecting goods and money to help Ukrainian refugees and to provide humanitarian
aid. But images of destruction and refugees from wars in Syria, Yemen and
Ethiopia have not elicited quite the same generous response. Is it because the
disaster in Ukraine is happening close to us in Europe, to people who look so much
like us? Are we unduly partial in our response?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Meanwhile, NATO Governments seem
intent to feed just enough weapons into Ukraine to keep the fighting going, to
weaken Russia without risking a wider, even more destructive war, possibly a
nuclear one. We do not know how this war will end, but we do know that the
economic sanctions already imposed will make life difficult for us all, not
just in Russia, but here in Ireland and throughout the world.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We see evil manifested in Russia’s
attack on Ukraine, but it is not the Russian people who are evil, any more than
the Ukrainian people are. As Christians, we must pray not just for the people
of Ukraine, but also of Russia, and for an early negotiated peace. We must pray
for the leaders of Ukraine and Belarus, of Russia and NATO, that hard and
warlike hearts may be softened, that they are led into God’s paths of peace and
justice. And we must pray for grace for ourselves to resist evil and do God’s
will.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Yet, as well as evil there is hope
in God’s garden. Evil will not triumph in the end. Easter will soon be with us,
bringing a triumphant resurrection. Our fields and gardens are burgeoning. In
April we will see the victory of life over death re-enacted once again in the
growth of our crops, the blooming of fruit trees and the beauty of flowers. Here
are a few images taken last April in the garden I share with my wife Marty,
where God is always to be found.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR36We7hObvchq8MP9AIGy4YlidY-aZUFFArstYKyd7j6rjVL7ypSpZCViQ8qGW8kv_UiQGbGbkCwQ0z4odi4OVDuvIYxQChoyEEQyASEL1x4aDDzUU-SqltP2T7hzleDwBHgFu2wTJXq17n5af7UC_MGFg2KRIOArMLoIU3qTSXQ2xt2ti_prgxkLqQ/s992/A%20yellow%20tree%20peony%20sheds%20light%20in%20a%20shady%20corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="744" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR36We7hObvchq8MP9AIGy4YlidY-aZUFFArstYKyd7j6rjVL7ypSpZCViQ8qGW8kv_UiQGbGbkCwQ0z4odi4OVDuvIYxQChoyEEQyASEL1x4aDDzUU-SqltP2T7hzleDwBHgFu2wTJXq17n5af7UC_MGFg2KRIOArMLoIU3qTSXQ2xt2ti_prgxkLqQ/s320/A%20yellow%20tree%20peony%20sheds%20light%20in%20a%20shady%20corner.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A yellow tree peony sheds light in a shady corner</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvWdCQQJy9e2hoMlzx6FBhydgjGWEPkScWhoaysIaI_qIOp5lbjmfjSunvZZt21FnUBzj2LgBeqmD13mTsS2sTuIcugyhQzLXU9bKSVur5RYzAh_QE43QJ2OpC6OuJZNzXRlK6qdMCdg2fyfNKLAkH3m1PBo3Cu9rsMF8hcAAL_fp9MdIEccVsXucTg/s1944/Cherry%20blossom%20opens%20before%20the%20leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="1458" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvWdCQQJy9e2hoMlzx6FBhydgjGWEPkScWhoaysIaI_qIOp5lbjmfjSunvZZt21FnUBzj2LgBeqmD13mTsS2sTuIcugyhQzLXU9bKSVur5RYzAh_QE43QJ2OpC6OuJZNzXRlK6qdMCdg2fyfNKLAkH3m1PBo3Cu9rsMF8hcAAL_fp9MdIEccVsXucTg/s320/Cherry%20blossom%20opens%20before%20the%20leaves.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Cherry blossom opens before the leaves</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj887sYHvBZP-RF3tv15TvXTKdyZFYW4lRAaw_ShVf5j4-sG3XgFfmZF_el6LaN1WtnK48GOAFoIVYyt8WL_ZNhnYtIxvMgY4OfWOoEYcjBGlC1gn4SMuEGUoMuC7LOSrp_k1TiCc5Vzar0cxKfgEjaITUw7wgXfdMjkIG929E9o6l_jOxumKnVO7HD9g/s2374/Red%20and%20yellow%20Apeldoorn%20tulips%20naturalised%20in%20grass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1585" data-original-width="2374" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj887sYHvBZP-RF3tv15TvXTKdyZFYW4lRAaw_ShVf5j4-sG3XgFfmZF_el6LaN1WtnK48GOAFoIVYyt8WL_ZNhnYtIxvMgY4OfWOoEYcjBGlC1gn4SMuEGUoMuC7LOSrp_k1TiCc5Vzar0cxKfgEjaITUw7wgXfdMjkIG929E9o6l_jOxumKnVO7HD9g/s320/Red%20and%20yellow%20Apeldoorn%20tulips%20naturalised%20in%20grass.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Red and yellow Apeldoorn tulips naturalised in grass</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><p></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-88136588183941282021-07-01T10:48:00.058+01:002021-07-30T11:09:12.514+01:00Change and continuity in a country graveyard<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>From the July/August 2021 edition of Newslink, the diocesan magazine for Limerick & Killaloe</i></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTLJlJI5qbbdeeCXp-i0sN6iboScjBH1mjatlR28C9S6d03MFF2VUZDfEYFF1eKfc9JY4lgffPkZYBkuXsvnNYQYPYhWR01HuEcFkTgPlvx6rWvNGQQFv3OBn717rTgQ0EOJBKemy8fos/s2048/Killodiernan+church+in+its+ever+changing+flowering+graveyard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1554" data-original-width="2048" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTLJlJI5qbbdeeCXp-i0sN6iboScjBH1mjatlR28C9S6d03MFF2VUZDfEYFF1eKfc9JY4lgffPkZYBkuXsvnNYQYPYhWR01HuEcFkTgPlvx6rWvNGQQFv3OBn717rTgQ0EOJBKemy8fos/s320/Killodiernan+church+in+its+ever+changing+flowering+graveyard.jpg" width="320" /></span></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Killodiernan church in its ever changing flowering graveyard</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p><i>“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” Matthew 6:28,29.</i></p><p>Here in Ireland as in so much of the world, within my lifetime, modern farming practices – crop monocultures, weed killers, insecticides - have gravely damaged the wonderful diversity of life in our fields and forests. We have been making a mess of the beautiful living planet God has given us – I call it out as blasphemy.</p><p>Yet some special places remain where we can still experience something of what has been lost. Old graveyards are often the last pieces of unimproved grassland in the neighbourhood, and Killodiernan in North Tipperary, 5km from my home, is one such. The short turf is densely packed with a multitude of wildflowers and grasses growing as a sustainable community, which emerge and bloom in succession throughout the season, before being mown in the autumn. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZobJTSB4l26z5BLiFzZIgUj_c1JkzdnVNK038QZ4zs4bK-UM7murDQpj6FjO1fDXzTp4bOrVgMKgsqUB-T3xFrZo3EjeYqVDF1IspUnkxFtlLDYmhGWUQNYbO7Vv9OzP75I6ge5cveRa/s1282/In+mid-June+the+graveyard+is+yellow+with+birdsfoot+trefoil%252C+mouse-ear+hawkweed+and+buttercups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1282" data-original-width="1030" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZobJTSB4l26z5BLiFzZIgUj_c1JkzdnVNK038QZ4zs4bK-UM7murDQpj6FjO1fDXzTp4bOrVgMKgsqUB-T3xFrZo3EjeYqVDF1IspUnkxFtlLDYmhGWUQNYbO7Vv9OzP75I6ge5cveRa/s320/In+mid-June+the+graveyard+is+yellow+with+birdsfoot+trefoil%252C+mouse-ear+hawkweed+and+buttercups.jpg" width="257" /></i></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>In mid-June the graveyard is yellow with birdsfoot trefoil, <br />mouse-ear hawkweed and buttercups</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The succession begins in April with primroses and cowslips. In May the early purple orchids star, alongside blue bugle, and wispy white clouds of pignut. Now in mid-June, the graveyard has turned yellow with bird’s foot trefoil, bulbous buttercup and mouse-ear hawkweed, amid the dainty waving heads of quaking grass, dog daisies, and two types of orchid – common spotted and a multitude of twayblades. Other species will take over in succession to them, until late summer paints the graveyard blue with devils-bit scabious. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5xZ6qmHsh-wnLH116ZTRWV3rdiGxHBLOzuauJz6eSCy6vdT8TBX6bfwx1rJmAyd3F6FBD_T4BIRLJJJUgYh5wYrdishL7wRmv4QUWoqWgd9ET7EGEdWSyl49nQmHR_PTChBqpbmTyCePd/s1741/A+splah+of+pink+from+a+common+spotted+orchid+in+mid-June.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1741" data-original-width="1380" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5xZ6qmHsh-wnLH116ZTRWV3rdiGxHBLOzuauJz6eSCy6vdT8TBX6bfwx1rJmAyd3F6FBD_T4BIRLJJJUgYh5wYrdishL7wRmv4QUWoqWgd9ET7EGEdWSyl49nQmHR_PTChBqpbmTyCePd/s320/A+splah+of+pink+from+a+common+spotted+orchid+in+mid-June.jpg" width="254" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">A splash of pink from a common spotted orchid in mid-June</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>This is a rare survival, an ever-changing tapestry of colour and texture, preserved by the accident of the church being built here. It is managed sensitively by the church wardens for wildlife. Other local pastures must have looked like this to the delight of our forebears for hundreds of years, before they were reseeded with ryegrass and fertilised to maximize productivity.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkb39cN2Bhh9KDgVMNcl4OLvyV0n-dOwsMURv_0xAmdgG3xzNRI_LDTvHIetVRNuu1OhCXOirxaSLyJiNZmGXCcL8ENzm2KFBrz0ROLLRQNrNyD7jy6rtlj6MjtJbcu6boeMFWgNHelGqe/s2048/The+graveyard+is+home+to+scores+of+twayblade+orchids+with+flowers+like+little+green+men.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkb39cN2Bhh9KDgVMNcl4OLvyV0n-dOwsMURv_0xAmdgG3xzNRI_LDTvHIetVRNuu1OhCXOirxaSLyJiNZmGXCcL8ENzm2KFBrz0ROLLRQNrNyD7jy6rtlj6MjtJbcu6boeMFWgNHelGqe/s320/The+graveyard+is+home+to+scores+of+twayblade+orchids+with+flowers+like+little+green+men.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The graveyard is home to scores of twayblade orchids <br />with flowers like little green men</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>This type of grassland is not natural, however. The climax vegetation after the last glaciation would have been woodland. What we see now is the work of human beings over millennia, who felled the trees and worked with the grain of nature to make a living from the land. And since the graveyard was enclosed, generations of faithful worshippers have left their mark too by planting other exotic flowers, including snowdrops, daffodils and bluebells, montbretia and fairy foxgloves, now naturalised. What we see now is a product of both change and continuity.</p><p>Killodiernan church itself is a product of both change and continuity. The present building dates from 1811, replacing the medieval parish church a mile away, in ruins since the 17th Century. It was built to hold 120 people as a simple barn-church with tower and small gallery, with a grant from the Board of First Fruits. Over the years succeeding generations have extended the church, reorganised the interior, and still lovingly maintain it. </p><p>We will experience a lot more change in future, as our wider society confronts the challenges of global heating and biodiversity loss, and the Church adapts to new circumstances. A new world is coming into being in our generation. Change may make us anxious, but we must not let anxiety overwhelm us. We are enfolded in the love of the God whom Jesus calls Father, and we are guided by the Holy Spirit. Let us seek to preserve what is good and true and beautiful from the past, while we make the new world more like God’s kingdom than the old world we leave behind. </p><p>There will be change, but there will also be continuity.</p><div><br /></div><br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-21572097179569315862021-05-01T15:10:00.002+00:002021-05-01T15:10:31.603+00:00The three-cornered dance of life<p></p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This short piece was submiited for the May 2021 issue of Newslink, the Diocesan Magazine for Limerick & Killaloe</i></span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span>How blessed we have been by our gardens in this second Spring of Covid lockdown! The early bulbs - the snowdrops, the crocuses, the daffodils – seemed brighter and more numerous than ever this year. As I write it is the turn of primroses, cowslips and tulips to star. Dandelions are everywhere, so bright and cheerful – if they were rare and difficult to grow, gardeners would pay fortunes for them. And I have been harvesting purple sprouting broccoli, and the first asparagus from the polytunnel - so much tastier than that from the supermarket.<p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzoJ8PRBP7Ph8smbASfX2Vy6hLiPNe2zBFdJqMu2H1eFdOmurVuntXA3CNfj0Aw11XnPiItfi4D0ek3WTeNWUF2ZmJsPqmrMf6Tfl5g5NCGcSif6w0zTU3s0xolaetJF_aQOCS_2n-DZ2/s2048/Bees+feasting+on+pear+blossom+as+they+pollinate+the+flowers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzoJ8PRBP7Ph8smbASfX2Vy6hLiPNe2zBFdJqMu2H1eFdOmurVuntXA3CNfj0Aw11XnPiItfi4D0ek3WTeNWUF2ZmJsPqmrMf6Tfl5g5NCGcSif6w0zTU3s0xolaetJF_aQOCS_2n-DZ2/s320/Bees+feasting+on+pear+blossom+as+they+pollinate+the+flowers.jpg" width="320" /></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bees feasting on pear blossom as they pollinate the flowers</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>It is the flowering fruit trees that attract my attention just now. The wild blackthorn, damsons and cherries blooming in the hedgerows promise an autumn feast of jams and flavoured gin, and I trust the birds will leave a few Victoria plums and Morello cherries for puddings. The pear blossom is already fully open, and bees are busy fertilising it, as they gather pollen and nectar to feed their growing young. The apples and the quince are in bud and will be out by the time you read this. I look forward to fine weather so that we will have a good fruit set.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PUN0dYSIlUTyqurgP-2qIwm-cENs5h5OHeOEn7p5x7ZO4PkV6_0R6EYiNCWZ_8CP1LaZZI5YDeUizhgCN43_Bi_j_DenJpoe7Tsz9J5GJTcLru-CUs3Kf2ouVJ_qLJsxk7EntgbPu9hQ/s1600/The+ravishing+pink+of+apple+blossom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PUN0dYSIlUTyqurgP-2qIwm-cENs5h5OHeOEn7p5x7ZO4PkV6_0R6EYiNCWZ_8CP1LaZZI5YDeUizhgCN43_Bi_j_DenJpoe7Tsz9J5GJTcLru-CUs3Kf2ouVJ_qLJsxk7EntgbPu9hQ/s320/The+ravishing+pink+of+apple+blossom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The ravishing pink of apple blossom</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />This prompts me to reflect on the wonderful three-cornered dance of fruit trees, insects, and fruit eating creatures. The trees offer up pollen and nectar to the pollinating insects to feed them and their young, while the insects return the favour by fertilising the flowers. The trees then bear sweet and tasty fruits, so irresistible to us, while birds and mammals like ourselves spread the trees’ seeds far and wide.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwp-jPtc4uD1YBiNaJnYyhFByGvf0b_5fQ0o5_XIGBrhbQFPTxAQcV4-zN7CbEA8QakQf9tIeKgGGrCGKb11bf-qHsem2AqYQHczZQThWR6Reg63z1Lv313cwLqExll6gUV1qMj12xa4c/s2048/Looking+forward+to+harvest+-+Still+life+with+quince%252C+apples+and+pears+by+Paul+C%25C3%25A9zanne.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1860" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwp-jPtc4uD1YBiNaJnYyhFByGvf0b_5fQ0o5_XIGBrhbQFPTxAQcV4-zN7CbEA8QakQf9tIeKgGGrCGKb11bf-qHsem2AqYQHczZQThWR6Reg63z1Lv313cwLqExll6gUV1qMj12xa4c/s320/Looking+forward+to+harvest+-+Still+life+with+quince%252C+apples+and+pears+by+Paul+C%25C3%25A9zanne.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looking forward to harvest <br />- Still life with quince, apples and pears by Paul Cézanne</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />By the grace of God, the trees, insects, birds and mammals have evolved together over millions of years to partake in this communion of life, in which all benefit and no one loses. I see it is an image the kingdom of heaven, reflecting the mutual love and communion of Father, Son and Holy Spirit in our triune God.</p><p><br /></p></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-64634276756705856472021-04-25T15:26:00.005+00:002021-04-25T15:33:04.204+00:00April Joy<p>These last days of April are quite magical, with clear skies, warm sunshine, and nature burgeoning all around us. I feel entirely blessed. The garden is filled with bees and other insects, including butterflies. Already I have seen Brimstone butterflies, Holly Blues, Speckled Woods, Orangetips, Small Tortoiseshells and Peacocks. Unfortunately I am not patient enough to try to photograph them, but the plants stay still. Here are some that are giving me joy just now.</p><p>The red and yellow Apeldoorn tulips are now at their best, standing up in the grass among the dandelions I must deadhead before they seed any further than they have already.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAwECOr6oQpocPPr0fTXhsaPN_XFYcQsk_HRyHzaNz6FtBhS1NFG9fDM4Tb3sebcnKTXD3O4TvRqRsJqwRUhwvxMFM3rOyQj7fbEADr2W0PYoPFSO1XO-KmMU3dV3can93yzkHxmfhyUz/s2048/IMG_20210423_125542.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1643" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAwECOr6oQpocPPr0fTXhsaPN_XFYcQsk_HRyHzaNz6FtBhS1NFG9fDM4Tb3sebcnKTXD3O4TvRqRsJqwRUhwvxMFM3rOyQj7fbEADr2W0PYoPFSO1XO-KmMU3dV3can93yzkHxmfhyUz/s320/IMG_20210423_125542.jpg" /></a></div><p>The buds on the Large-leafed Lime trees in the Lime Alley are just starting to open, not all at the same time, since they were seed propagated by Jan Ravensburg from Clara, who supplied the young trees. There is plenty of natural variation among them, and I am starting to find seedlings here and there.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8b8zRByNG9265V_dO-aNIcOmNA_X87hVEYIha4dq9i9yyLJv8mjN7Nz30-3oC0uWcLDDXqoPSH_yrHTDdeXXWdcuiJq2sWZLuolGNh-0sgA5egBzecJ39aXCBPgMkkGAHmfWtyVX2zxhl/s2048/IMG_20210424_122407.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8b8zRByNG9265V_dO-aNIcOmNA_X87hVEYIha4dq9i9yyLJv8mjN7Nz30-3oC0uWcLDDXqoPSH_yrHTDdeXXWdcuiJq2sWZLuolGNh-0sgA5egBzecJ39aXCBPgMkkGAHmfWtyVX2zxhl/s320/IMG_20210424_122407.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The Quince tree, variety 'Vranja', gave a good harvest last year. There is even more blossom than last year, and with the fine weather I am hoping for a good fruit-set this year. But I must remember to give it a bucket of water, as they prefer damp ground.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmc3xeGTrZ424Bu6mOKiTUTNlYcEp_GA2l_OLxDldoiCQf9pbpUsvN1cPBGR9V-uYrn8irrVyfO9zAbIGZWsiFl58dNz_jhA7iVNwvjhb4S4lUzja4BJc3tg8AyIbFtM-cyuMLrHpHWItT/s2048/IMG_20210424_122239.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmc3xeGTrZ424Bu6mOKiTUTNlYcEp_GA2l_OLxDldoiCQf9pbpUsvN1cPBGR9V-uYrn8irrVyfO9zAbIGZWsiFl58dNz_jhA7iVNwvjhb4S4lUzja4BJc3tg8AyIbFtM-cyuMLrHpHWItT/s320/IMG_20210424_122239.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>In the 'Wilderness', the native bluebells are spreading around, and I love the arching stems of the Solomon's Seal, with their delicate, drooping yellow-white bells.<span style="text-align: center;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0n4Bjmbpx8BmOrbh47BNDR-tFiUZAQCJO1k3pVxjOFas-mnsWYr07xLBGN4kE83FFwtp2wMt_ifGH8J7RmCa5R_MViE1mD7f0XKFu4byNubuEhO1LvuKLwQt_x_LKBAoJr8JLY_Vh8LuS/s2048/IMG_20210424_123323.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0n4Bjmbpx8BmOrbh47BNDR-tFiUZAQCJO1k3pVxjOFas-mnsWYr07xLBGN4kE83FFwtp2wMt_ifGH8J7RmCa5R_MViE1mD7f0XKFu4byNubuEhO1LvuKLwQt_x_LKBAoJr8JLY_Vh8LuS/s320/IMG_20210424_123323.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO83L-HUQn6KxzsZLNiRgP_vAOY5_ow8sKbC3lJIuJR4p-CXKwgCvvqvd8cityZvjfuLDJBrla8DCdZ6WAUxKwhU65x-KnCbW2YImZUHTnmbAzVSEHXOjZwFMSzW3aV8f-RIHiuH9_mNlO/s2048/IMG_20210424_123620.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO83L-HUQn6KxzsZLNiRgP_vAOY5_ow8sKbC3lJIuJR4p-CXKwgCvvqvd8cityZvjfuLDJBrla8DCdZ6WAUxKwhU65x-KnCbW2YImZUHTnmbAzVSEHXOjZwFMSzW3aV8f-RIHiuH9_mNlO/s320/IMG_20210424_123620.jpg" /></a></div></div><p>The cowslips are spreading well in the wildflower meadow. There is a good deal of variation in the size of their petals, with some as large as cultivated polyanthus. I suspect their are some genes from the common primrose in them, which usually produces the hybrid known as False Oxlip, with primrose flowers on a long stem. But these retain the classic cowslip colouration. I think I shall try to bring the largest ones into cultivation, away from others and from primroses, to see if I can develop the strain.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKaIE6eP352fvC29uGgOENsxBDiUTPAonzpZQyqnP2wkJqi0HVQ9x9jkBSBdCtlwNOjmbfTsgq5kaUXv3hyphenhyphenBRN0RE4d4Rj4g0g8FTgOIYrsWQ58pgvtnN4tv6ikPei88zWLTLtKAvbcxY/s2048/IMG_20210418_134041.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKaIE6eP352fvC29uGgOENsxBDiUTPAonzpZQyqnP2wkJqi0HVQ9x9jkBSBdCtlwNOjmbfTsgq5kaUXv3hyphenhyphenBRN0RE4d4Rj4g0g8FTgOIYrsWQ58pgvtnN4tv6ikPei88zWLTLtKAvbcxY/s320/IMG_20210418_134041.jpg" /></a></div><p>But perhaps my greatest joy is the little clump of Coralroot (Cardamine bulbifera) growing in the wildflower meadow. In Ireland it is an extremely rare garden escape. I found it in the old overgrown garden of botanist Patrick Kelly's ruined house outside Ballyvaughan in Co Clare. It reproduces mostly from purple bulbils which form in the leaf axils, rather than from seed. I gathered a few bulbils 2 years ago and grew them on in a pot, which I planted out last year. This year they are flowering for the first time, and I hope I will be able to naturalise them in my garden, as Patrick Kelly did in his.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CNmnLZd0W8dikO1h7qc8nktPemw1KMr1Z1BQLGvy91P7359DVzrL_yjX_qh9BzVwHA72uauLwqAiKpwQfVCMZh6LKP-cpNTpHx63_q2QigpRT0MgGP3TQh8E1VRxQMply1DgioyfVWe5/s2048/IMG_20210425_150246.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CNmnLZd0W8dikO1h7qc8nktPemw1KMr1Z1BQLGvy91P7359DVzrL_yjX_qh9BzVwHA72uauLwqAiKpwQfVCMZh6LKP-cpNTpHx63_q2QigpRT0MgGP3TQh8E1VRxQMply1DgioyfVWe5/s320/IMG_20210425_150246.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-17067630821682567982021-02-27T23:31:00.003+01:002021-02-27T23:37:55.769+01:00What a lovely day!<p>Todays anticyclonic conditions have made for a lovely day here in North Tipperary - still, dry, with occasional sunny spells, even if chilly enough for a coat when I ventured out in the afternoon to do some tidying up in the garden. Spring is such a lovely time of year, with something new to stop and admire every day. Here are some things that caught my eye today. Thanks be to God!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvG5yUxiOhPAIu1Dcb7dw97Lpp0TxvfsH1kSdnXQVifHgjYMyTI1he7XMWpRCJkctl58zCGcNVPRrOmLsBUh7nh5un2k_cNXnjKLbr5-KVbvzHjr_7pAZT7W4v-g1SPi0UJWwwhVdTtUJ/s2048/IMG_20210227_114605.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvG5yUxiOhPAIu1Dcb7dw97Lpp0TxvfsH1kSdnXQVifHgjYMyTI1he7XMWpRCJkctl58zCGcNVPRrOmLsBUh7nh5un2k_cNXnjKLbr5-KVbvzHjr_7pAZT7W4v-g1SPi0UJWwwhVdTtUJ/w381-h508/IMG_20210227_114605.jpg" width="381" /></a></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Mezereon (Daphne mezereum), one of many seedlings in the garden.</i></div></span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicp0PA2DJdb1_D9gbbxoTGaFbAUSRz1IGZ5sGrC4FYCbFhoKKI8muwPfr9ICECHP7P6444R3pPg8YRdkOOUAmRZrwnuUgXvjscyJSnmTJDOy5avdL9V9Uqstq11E2J7r44cOFY3mx6W_Qb/s2048/IMG_20210227_114634.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicp0PA2DJdb1_D9gbbxoTGaFbAUSRz1IGZ5sGrC4FYCbFhoKKI8muwPfr9ICECHP7P6444R3pPg8YRdkOOUAmRZrwnuUgXvjscyJSnmTJDOy5avdL9V9Uqstq11E2J7r44cOFY3mx6W_Qb/w372-h496/IMG_20210227_114634.jpg" width="372" /></a></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span>The darker primrose behind is Primula vulgaris ssp. sibthorpii from the Balkans, </span></i><i><span>the lighter one in front is its hybrid with our native Irish yellow Primula vulgaris ssp. vulgaris</span></i></div></i></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBHViWTscBrOlOQFVzrbPH_8eOrbpz5se5YyqXNVkUqWSLSAbPsvA9jYtLW2I_k7iI0-QJd5kojdRiJtUjkaQCjxZ1Ypm411efdgbz5MboZk2f9VJvTda92qyqvX7KYVbfho-100oT1ei/s2048/IMG_20210227_114827.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBHViWTscBrOlOQFVzrbPH_8eOrbpz5se5YyqXNVkUqWSLSAbPsvA9jYtLW2I_k7iI0-QJd5kojdRiJtUjkaQCjxZ1Ypm411efdgbz5MboZk2f9VJvTda92qyqvX7KYVbfho-100oT1ei/w393-h295/IMG_20210227_114827.jpg" width="393" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i>This lovely miniature daffodil is a true species from Spain, Narcissus asturiensis. </i></span><i>I call it the Clonteem daffodil, because my Grandmother brought it with her </i><i>from the house of that name where she was brought up.</i></div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqcU32-A9hO-j1vemFKtE0_BG26BguT6M6ZLzmRG27fvDMgHiAdbW1SJXq11iSwT7WDNR2Jlksy_d9nsjTttgocwZbAJZ6SvoDcpXyN8H1DfiNectXKCJzUD24_J6_QKdiwyp-41sBfUD/s1802/IMG_20210227_115034.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1802" data-original-width="1240" height="567" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqcU32-A9hO-j1vemFKtE0_BG26BguT6M6ZLzmRG27fvDMgHiAdbW1SJXq11iSwT7WDNR2Jlksy_d9nsjTttgocwZbAJZ6SvoDcpXyN8H1DfiNectXKCJzUD24_J6_QKdiwyp-41sBfUD/w390-h567/IMG_20210227_115034.jpg" width="390" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i>My friend Caleb's Irish black bees (</i></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span><i>Apis mellifera mellifera) </i></span></span><i>buzzing away at the hive. </i><i>It is so nice to see them gathering pollen from the spring flowers.</i></div><p><br /></p></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-23757738307105806622021-02-21T18:39:00.000+01:002021-02-21T18:39:33.822+01:00Galanthus 'Hill Poë'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsP5zI9cjMmIINOk3H0Sstc37Zca1Va8bnCNNlyThjlxJTYqGdF_UahHPSo7LDd-yQ1EGwGJS9uCj9CdCNBd8Sdui_Kr1qrnzg6XjHfyPwBfbB8AFo5HSMupJBUlONeRGknR37tmAMeVMg/s2048/IMG_20210216_163641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1553" data-original-width="2048" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsP5zI9cjMmIINOk3H0Sstc37Zca1Va8bnCNNlyThjlxJTYqGdF_UahHPSo7LDd-yQ1EGwGJS9uCj9CdCNBd8Sdui_Kr1qrnzg6XjHfyPwBfbB8AFo5HSMupJBUlONeRGknR37tmAMeVMg/w390-h296/IMG_20210216_163641.jpg" width="390" /></a></div><p>This pretty snowdrop is blooming in Marty's Labyrinth garden just now, where it has been clumping up well for the last couple of years. Its double flowers with 4 to 5 outer petals are almost completely white and surround a double rosette of inner petals, marked with dark green at their tips and along their mid-section, and edged with white. </p><p>It is not far from home, here in Dromineer. Galanthus 'Hill Poë' was discovered in the garden of the old Rectory in Summerhill, Nenagh, Co Tipperary by Mrs Hill-Poë, the Rector's wife back in the C19th. She propogated it and passed it on to friends, from whence it passed into the nursery trade. Now no galanthophile worth his or her salt would be without it.</p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-4810872455081375862021-02-14T18:14:00.001+01:002021-02-14T18:14:49.631+01:00Living close up<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This short piece appeared in the February 2021 issue of Newslink, the Diocesan Magazine for Limerick & Killaloe</i></span></p><p>The pandemic lockdowns have focussed us all on what is close to us, what is local. We value the little things more for what they are - God-given blessings. As I cocoon myself from the virus, I give thanks for the kindness of friends, neighbours, and staff in local shops, who keep me supplied with the necessities of life. I notice the courtesy of strangers who mask up, and make space for me in supermarkets and on the street, so that both of us may keep a safe distance apart. </p><p>Since I cannot travel to visit wild places with long views, what is close up has become much more important to my spirit. The ever-changing garden I share with Marty my wife is a constant joy - we are blessed by the abundance of life in it. Lockdown must be so much more difficult for those in cramped apartments. </p><p>Just now, as the days lengthen at the end of January, fresh life burgeons in the garden, and there is something new to see every day. Those most at risk are already being vaccinated, and the rest of us will be in due course, if not quite so quickly as we would like. All this gives me hope for the future, hope that once again we will enjoy God’s bounty, hope that we will emerge from the Covid tunnel into the light of a world changed for the better. </p><p>I hope you enjoy these photos of a few of the things giving me joy in the garden just now.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXbS_rYStwPMIjO9DN0_ooPp7MVPW9td-C6hfdq-JZi3tsRHf81AXnaOxQFVkvyZJaUrBYwrV_G7imdGZ-EzM1vMRaob-S7cRU2fVZG8PlsXdunSeHsdHOP0SR0B0NJdFWtn9JgwE7hSBe/s2048/Bright+yellow+spider-like+flowers+of+Witch+Hazel+with+a+sweet+scent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1473" data-original-width="2048" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXbS_rYStwPMIjO9DN0_ooPp7MVPW9td-C6hfdq-JZi3tsRHf81AXnaOxQFVkvyZJaUrBYwrV_G7imdGZ-EzM1vMRaob-S7cRU2fVZG8PlsXdunSeHsdHOP0SR0B0NJdFWtn9JgwE7hSBe/w446-h321/Bright+yellow+spider-like+flowers+of+Witch+Hazel+with+a+sweet+scent.jpg" width="446" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Bright yellow spider-like flowers of Witch Hazel with a sweet scent</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXtbqvyVLZ8uvyFpmWDgDsb9C2ZW1hklgAAS8qb7xdxOTTtA6UnVcWmJNbnC6lUmynt7yZTvu7YQ785wEp0d24xnOfTNqia831RXZi1pfgANSGCGU1v934OOKdDlrWND8TLFn5PuBcMRPi/s2048/Pristine+white+Christmas+roses%252C+blooming+through+frost+and+snow+since+before+Christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1638" data-original-width="2048" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXtbqvyVLZ8uvyFpmWDgDsb9C2ZW1hklgAAS8qb7xdxOTTtA6UnVcWmJNbnC6lUmynt7yZTvu7YQ785wEp0d24xnOfTNqia831RXZi1pfgANSGCGU1v934OOKdDlrWND8TLFn5PuBcMRPi/w455-h364/Pristine+white+Christmas+roses%252C+blooming+through+frost+and+snow+since+before+Christmas.jpg" width="455" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Pristine white Christmas roses, </span></i><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">blooming through frost and snow since before Christmas</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6r9NtIOphz9TgkzR_fgGTO46vWu1BZT0SJeoQRKQAGB4LPeo0uyLPHq3AXHnhtoRaNMfpqMr_8yCTYRJX6iahH13EO1Yv2QaS9n03Kz6hNBeFkbXdJsznHGAqeQWsuzu6SRNSDT9uIyQ/s2048/Snowdrops%252C+just+starting+to+open+after+pushing+their+way+to+light+through+the+leaf+litter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6r9NtIOphz9TgkzR_fgGTO46vWu1BZT0SJeoQRKQAGB4LPeo0uyLPHq3AXHnhtoRaNMfpqMr_8yCTYRJX6iahH13EO1Yv2QaS9n03Kz6hNBeFkbXdJsznHGAqeQWsuzu6SRNSDT9uIyQ/w455-h341/Snowdrops%252C+just+starting+to+open+after+pushing+their+way+to+light+through+the+leaf+litter.jpg" width="455" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Snowdrops, just starting to open after pushing their way to light through the leaf litter</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IWj1mHY79ySyk5vnbj45cvnen7_PyvVMYf63ngne92aCPkXFkS1_QdCzlnaTc6vjkZFToXbBtJnWBISQApvw2k8DsYKMU2Yg4ybrGmS21YBX5HVlr_GDaX6YH0ne41ts5d6hFfajRjxC/s2048/The+Lime+alley%252C+with+beech+and+yew+hedges+neatly+trimmed+by+my+good+neighbour+John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1539" data-original-width="2048" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IWj1mHY79ySyk5vnbj45cvnen7_PyvVMYf63ngne92aCPkXFkS1_QdCzlnaTc6vjkZFToXbBtJnWBISQApvw2k8DsYKMU2Yg4ybrGmS21YBX5HVlr_GDaX6YH0ne41ts5d6hFfajRjxC/w455-h341/The+Lime+alley%252C+with+beech+and+yew+hedges+neatly+trimmed+by+my+good+neighbour+John.jpg" width="455" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The Lime alley, with beech and yew hedges neatly trimmed by my good neighbour John</i></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-34031490587808348842020-11-01T17:44:00.000+01:002020-11-01T17:44:20.004+01:00Remembering my mother<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyY8rv940A3R4FO3EarhbL1I7vv7IpBafS6-aAg7XiNVwJ8sBXVHhE0Gkg35pzpMAQPkIowbgaemYULiMqOcXeo5Dye9tvbaEpE_KGJsJK_7x5Djr6rUSlrco-8EJuoMP0eHs3LUZJr_T/s2005/LucieKatherineSandersNeeWaller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2005" data-original-width="1584" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyY8rv940A3R4FO3EarhbL1I7vv7IpBafS6-aAg7XiNVwJ8sBXVHhE0Gkg35pzpMAQPkIowbgaemYULiMqOcXeo5Dye9tvbaEpE_KGJsJK_7x5Djr6rUSlrco-8EJuoMP0eHs3LUZJr_T/s320/LucieKatherineSandersNeeWaller.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucie Katherine Sanders 17 Oct 1914 - 1 Nov 2000 </td></tr></tbody></table><p>Today I am remembering with love my mother, Lucie Katherine Sanders, née Waller, on the 20th anniversary of her death on 1st November 2000, All Saints' Day. I particularly love the sparkle in her eyes in this photo.</p><p>Here is the eulogy I was privileged to give at her funeral - one of the hardest things I have ever done:</p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">First of all, I want to thank you all on behalf of the family for being here with us today to say goodbye to my mother Lucie on her last journey.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">I’m sure that she would feel embarrassed to be talked about as I am going to do now. She would have claimed to be ‘just an ordinary woman’ who didn’t merit any fuss. But all of us know that she was really a quite extraordinary woman, a special person, and I want to take a few minutes to celebrate that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lucie was born on 17th October 1914, at the start of the Great War. She was the second of three daughters of Jocelyn Waller of Prior Park and his wife Faerie (née Devenish) from County Roscommon. Her sister Sally was two years older than her, and Cicely was two years younger. My mother was a premature, sickly baby, and she was not expected to live. But her mother, my grandmother, refused to give up hope. In those days before incubators, in that large draughty house, keeping her warm was the difference between life and death. My grandmother insisted that she be laid on her breast to keep warm, and kept her there for several weeks, until she started to thrive. My mother grew up into a fine strong girl, and the big strong woman we remember. Strong mentally, but also physically. Well into her 80’s she could pull the cord to start a lawnmower that defeated both her sons!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">The younger of us here may not realise it, but my mother Lucie was a fine all round sportswoman in her youth. She was an accomplished horsewoman who hunted and rode in point-to-points. I’ve been told that she was in great demand in the district to show off a horse for sale. No doubt an attractive young woman with a good seat was worth a few guineas on the price! Later on, in Egypt with my father after the war, she even won a camel race, to the great surprise of the men in the regiment, who hadn’t been able to bring themselves to put their money on the Padre’s wife! She also played hockey and lacrosse at school, and tennis. And she was a very good swimmer—I believe she swam in competition for TCD.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">But perhaps throughout the years sailing on the Shannon was her first sporting love, no doubt because it was so important for her parents, who had met sailing on the North Shannon. The three sisters were given a present by Tom Towers of Castletown of a SOD dinghy, which was christened Surprise. She sheeted Surprise for many years. She taught Tom and me to sail in her. And she watched her grandchildren sail in her, too. I think my grandparents must have been rather liberal parents for the time, because the three girls were allowed to travel up and down the Shannon on their own in their houseboat the Pink’Un to the different regattas. That’s a sight I would love to have seen myself. She still sailed occasionally when she was well past 70, and she was very proud to see her son as Commodore of the Yacht Club, as her father had also been.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small;">But, as well as being a fine sportswoman, she was also clever academically. She had her early education just a few hundred yards from this church in Kilodiernan rectory, where Rev. Mr. Burroughs taught her and Cicely, together with his own sons Walter and Jerram. Earlier this week, Jerram was telling me how Lucie used to drive to school in the pony and trap, at a great rate so as not to be late. She then went to French school in Bray. I remember her talking about meeting WB Yeats there, who had come to tea with the Miss Frenches. She was quite unimpressed by the great poet, who made rather little conversation, but ate a lot of scones. From there, she went up to Trinity College, where she studied history and took her degree. She kept up an interest in history throughout her life, and when she returned to North Tipp she was a keen member of the Ormond Historical Society. She was very proud to be the first woman in the district to go to University. This was during the depression and economic war, when money was very scarce on a farm, and I am very proud of her that she worked her way through college.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">After leaving Trinity, she knew she needed a professional training to be able to make her own way in the world. She went to train as a caterer at Athol Crescent in Edinburgh. With this behind her, she took a job as the Burser of St. Mary’s College, Durham—an amazingly responsible position for a girl then in her early 20s. Later, during the war, she did another very responsible job. She managed catering for the Transmission department of the BBC. She was responsible for scores of canteens all over the British Isles, and hundreds of staff. Much of the time she was travelling, living out of a suitcase. I remember her talking with horror of trying to sleep in a blacked-out train stopped in sidings during a bombing raid.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">She married my father Derick Sanders in 1946. He was then serving as a chaplain to the forces. She joined him in Egypt and later Cyprus before he was demobbed. They must first have got to know each other years before in Durham where my father was teaching at Bede College at the same time as she was at St. Mary’s. But my mother always claimed to remember meeting him for the first time at Prior Park when she was only 15 and he was brought to tea by his old friend Thora Trench of Laughton. He always denied any memory of this, but a young man of 23 would hardly have noticed a 15 year old girl, no matter how lively!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Their marriage was long and happy. Tom and I, with our families, and the grandchildren and great-grandchildren that she loved so much, are the testimony of their love for each other.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small;">In 1948, they moved to Landbeach, just outside Cambridge, where he was Rector, and my mother settled into the life of being the rector’s wife. In 1959 they moved on to Stalbridge in Dorset, where they stayed until my father’s retirement in 1978. She is being remembered in prayers in both parishes today. I imagine the transition to being the rector’s wife must have been difficult for her at times, after the independence and challenges of her own career. But she buckled down and loyally supported him, while also raising Tom and me, and finding time for her own interests. She was active in the Women’s Institute, the University Women’s Association and started a Young Wives’ Club.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Throughout my childhood, she had the knack of making both Tom and me feel very close to her and loved. Even when we were away at boarding school, we each got a long letter every week, and a fruit cake every fortnight through the post. We shall miss her reassuring presence very much.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">My mother Lucie was always very clear about her roots. She saw herself as an Irishwoman, and brought her children up to be proud of our Irish heritage. So it was natural that when the time for retirement came, she should bring my father back to her own place in North Tipperary, to the Skehanagh Point house which she herself had chosen for the Shannon views that both of them loved so much. Retirement was anything but restful for her. With my father she planned and made a fine garden out of a potato field. She drove him all over the diocese to take services in parishes where there was no priest. And she nursed and cared for those she loved. When my father fell ill, she cared for him 24 hours a day for more than 10 years. And when he died, and her sister Sally was ill, she nursed and cared for her too, until her death. As she had done before for her sister Cicely and her own mother.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">When her own strength began to fail, she continued to fight tenaciously to maintain her independence, and to live in her own home as long as she possibly could. We will all miss her deeply. But at the same time it is right for us to celebrate and give thanks for her long life, which she lived so well. She really was an extraordinary woman and a great spirit.</span></p><div><br /></div>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-85779309434064440452020-08-07T16:14:00.000+01:002020-08-07T16:14:19.894+01:00Three finds that have pleased me<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLSPuHSHnxVFjqf4nBTq09KBZ95zBpXnYxISxGiwtu2zyUjJf2C9m1cALkaAmpmCDnIJP2WMNcDEHtnRc5b4Ifu4E0HL2GHmu5Zjfmsa_thgLVPLzO1Iv0NhVSo4M8q58Y80_3lYO6Reg/s2048/IMG_20200801_124431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLSPuHSHnxVFjqf4nBTq09KBZ95zBpXnYxISxGiwtu2zyUjJf2C9m1cALkaAmpmCDnIJP2WMNcDEHtnRc5b4Ifu4E0HL2GHmu5Zjfmsa_thgLVPLzO1Iv0NhVSo4M8q58Y80_3lYO6Reg/s640/IMG_20200801_124431.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLSPuHSHnxVFjqf4nBTq09KBZ95zBpXnYxISxGiwtu2zyUjJf2C9m1cALkaAmpmCDnIJP2WMNcDEHtnRc5b4Ifu4E0HL2GHmu5Zjfmsa_thgLVPLzO1Iv0NhVSo4M8q58Y80_3lYO6Reg/s2048/IMG_20200801_124431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><i>Dense-flowered Fragrant Orchid (Gymnadenia densiflora) on Carney Commons</i></a></div><p>I revisited Carney Commons on 1st August, hoping to find the Fragrant Orchids which were not yet in flower on my last visit. I was successful, though there were not so many as I usually see. </p><p>Until the last few years all native Fragrant Orchids were assigned to the species Gymnadenia conopsea. Then they were divided into 3 subspecies: ssp conopsea, ssp borealis and ssp densiflora. Now following more research and DNA sequencing these subspecies are recognised as good species. G. conopsea (Common Fragrant Orchid) is found in dry meadows, G. borealis (Heath Fragrant Orchid) in upland heath and pastures, and G. densiflora (Dense-flowered Fragrant Orchid) in marshes and fens. I identified the plants I found as G. densiflora from the shape of the sidelobes of the flowers, and this was confirmed to me from a photo by a more experienced botanist. Although it is recorded around Tullamore and Mullingar, and around Adare, it has not been recorded before in North Tipperary. I'm rather chuffed! I should report it to the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfEyjb1nFqfwWV7hYxH9Os5X6col9Lm1z_vMqrhrQouPiBNEstoaMO4v1LNIQC-FSe7qIUsGiJWvhH_We1oD6RXUQ_Tlu5Y8MC0ThDmHOjx9KLq4J_0nD0E2LX92sG2n3iag-HDPazaHbj/s2048/IMG_20200803_135031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfEyjb1nFqfwWV7hYxH9Os5X6col9Lm1z_vMqrhrQouPiBNEstoaMO4v1LNIQC-FSe7qIUsGiJWvhH_We1oD6RXUQ_Tlu5Y8MC0ThDmHOjx9KLq4J_0nD0E2LX92sG2n3iag-HDPazaHbj/s640/IMG_20200803_135031.jpg" /></a></div><p><i>Unusual white form of Lesser Knapweed, Centaurea nigra found on Carney Commons</i></p><p>I also found this unusual white form of Knapweed growing on the Common. I've never found one before, but a number of its thistle family relatives regularly sport such white flowers.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFGo9X_YAL_3ewkUxqv3X7j8bojEep3rn76sS8RtdaCvfeX7hsuAbLlSfz0pT6vfCgK0lPo8EhQKW-sbiEz9JttoxMOtYObeuvJdeoUkTWJPW7mOI4PDm7JgvsL7EzCn5uVVJrbD85_C1/s2048/IMG_20200725_183019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFGo9X_YAL_3ewkUxqv3X7j8bojEep3rn76sS8RtdaCvfeX7hsuAbLlSfz0pT6vfCgK0lPo8EhQKW-sbiEz9JttoxMOtYObeuvJdeoUkTWJPW7mOI4PDm7JgvsL7EzCn5uVVJrbD85_C1/s640/IMG_20200725_183019.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><i>Comma butterfly at rest in Dromineer Garden on 25 July 2020</i></p><p>Lastly, to my delight I have spotted a Comma Butterfly (Polygonia c-album) in my garden several times recently. When I was a child this was a rare butterfly found only in the Welsh Borders. Since then it has spread throughout England and Wales. In 2000 it arrived in Co Wexford, from which it has been spreading North and West. Now it has reached Dromineer on the Shannon in North Tipperary - long may it flourish with us!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><p></p>Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-48602282309515180112020-06-24T12:02:00.000+01:002020-06-24T12:02:19.438+01:00Orchids on Carney Commons, June 22nd 2020<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoyGyDeFiCBK285nWBvCZMk_7-IfzQyfsVWXRSw7trRjnjpa3X7AaNKiuJQFjwKuBxIcIz8jDKTvkcZ7xolXtaTgZ2Egauyu7ZMQHp_3XbGZxvCr0L0DC1R8AjjVv-zFAFuMY2prprBRFy/s1600/IMG_20200622_155846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoyGyDeFiCBK285nWBvCZMk_7-IfzQyfsVWXRSw7trRjnjpa3X7AaNKiuJQFjwKuBxIcIz8jDKTvkcZ7xolXtaTgZ2Egauyu7ZMQHp_3XbGZxvCr0L0DC1R8AjjVv-zFAFuMY2prprBRFy/s320/IMG_20200622_155846.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bee orchid - Ophrys apifera</td></tr>
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Inspired by the sight of bee orchids in the unmown meadow of friends, I ventured out to Carney Commons to see if I could find any. Last year I found dozens, but when I visited 3 weeks ago I could find none. This time I found a single flower spike. And I found another 8 different kinds of orchids in flower too!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicr41vq98xFVvWTnJO2CB582lijrAvTwlb8MNQIy19sV1cNERkHgXN75iq_ijX_GBVjsHO1CpmoPhymLNJSv61MSuZzpPQ-jPgKJsgiztsOvawUYA9ODL0wlfyyELkyNVIuJ1F_whq7BF/s1600/IMG_20200622_160012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicr41vq98xFVvWTnJO2CB582lijrAvTwlb8MNQIy19sV1cNERkHgXN75iq_ijX_GBVjsHO1CpmoPhymLNJSv61MSuZzpPQ-jPgKJsgiztsOvawUYA9ODL0wlfyyELkyNVIuJ1F_whq7BF/s320/IMG_20200622_160012.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marsh Helleborine - Epipactis pallustris - one of thousands</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-LSoHCLSKt-5upilg9B6t_POP8fnE8xkee0j0i48qqvZA-s4wLxSNM9duTRgHSU525Cek5XxxR6lv1y59-cwbs7z-IgtzAVGdaaA19sMTSLevHGbL1yDtfBCY43N8hTGlEhlwZHbuiPDL/s1600/IMG_20200622_160103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-LSoHCLSKt-5upilg9B6t_POP8fnE8xkee0j0i48qqvZA-s4wLxSNM9duTRgHSU525Cek5XxxR6lv1y59-cwbs7z-IgtzAVGdaaA19sMTSLevHGbL1yDtfBCY43N8hTGlEhlwZHbuiPDL/s320/IMG_20200622_160103.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early marsh orchid - Dactylorhizo incarnata ssp incarnata </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPBMLoZmmRNg01BkOf_eaxZiPtPic_WcIOwOjBtZCJdKGmc4WhxZwoe913lmIUqpEQCrytJjIEOiWyVu3OOa_OS310Q50sXKBKH-JRC4-RhYTmvzEfuhu1I6s6n-jX-0zR2tGEuObTDfYt/s1600/IMG_20200622_160215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPBMLoZmmRNg01BkOf_eaxZiPtPic_WcIOwOjBtZCJdKGmc4WhxZwoe913lmIUqpEQCrytJjIEOiWyVu3OOa_OS310Q50sXKBKH-JRC4-RhYTmvzEfuhu1I6s6n-jX-0zR2tGEuObTDfYt/s320/IMG_20200622_160215.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fly Orchid, Ophrys insectifera. Many hundreds of them, but perhaps fewer than last year</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg0IM_iVoc1KfnjCL3BTutsGkuteTc1vF75JcPwMUHggFdZMrFVWKmolLM_guHgxo3cCcUYMu1u4TwLmGrd6hbXIXQaBGQ1sljHqjz-SzPfEPRKa21e_TXbzxpKKQwmjrP-32o-fOZZJL/s1600/IMG_20200622_160435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg0IM_iVoc1KfnjCL3BTutsGkuteTc1vF75JcPwMUHggFdZMrFVWKmolLM_guHgxo3cCcUYMu1u4TwLmGrd6hbXIXQaBGQ1sljHqjz-SzPfEPRKa21e_TXbzxpKKQwmjrP-32o-fOZZJL/s320/IMG_20200622_160435.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early Marsh Orchid, Dactylorhiza incarnata ssp. pulchella</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSaVke3c-Xm_cQKlcJNEoiWbCyoaIDhNhdELXtWvVI7HlMaYymGFsPsABtje51mfetbMNPRHfT6DJHBm8-X98GkxzTQxj5vWpeelt2mJY7VtqDOmRiI1CyK0R6A4-rVhX3UXnTP2uZmSA/s1600/IMG_20200622_160514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSaVke3c-Xm_cQKlcJNEoiWbCyoaIDhNhdELXtWvVI7HlMaYymGFsPsABtje51mfetbMNPRHfT6DJHBm8-X98GkxzTQxj5vWpeelt2mJY7VtqDOmRiI1CyK0R6A4-rVhX3UXnTP2uZmSA/s320/IMG_20200622_160514.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Common Spotted Orchid, Dactylorhiza ssp. fuchsii</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1FpKTvABnTSiSrGV0Fmpsg7sbiebM-k4k7jBaUVWU8_SJuXr5sjFIxGkzqk3GAWPJmHV2hEvdjgwkR2OPvotD-ptW3sRPHUfDrCpjZsEdBUj_sfEElDdowBnjoLWufSmndVsLJlRatuzG/s1600/IMG_20200622_161756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1FpKTvABnTSiSrGV0Fmpsg7sbiebM-k4k7jBaUVWU8_SJuXr5sjFIxGkzqk3GAWPJmHV2hEvdjgwkR2OPvotD-ptW3sRPHUfDrCpjZsEdBUj_sfEElDdowBnjoLWufSmndVsLJlRatuzG/s320/IMG_20200622_161756.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure about this. Could it be a rather pale Western Marsh Orchid, Dactylorhiza occidentalis, or a hybrid? if the latter, between what?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgBpauTxEwr1WlQ3U2XG_cac1hDyfZTk1jqqEyvfcaoCMdmrvrEU2IFv4HFNAtBuEQwsIzUiJNTrXiUnWNSQo5wCHu8qBvNAhShCX2DanZipo6PR5M2l7HVc6g5rn1kZZ-5FljSvbzl2Z/s1600/IMG_20200622_162649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgBpauTxEwr1WlQ3U2XG_cac1hDyfZTk1jqqEyvfcaoCMdmrvrEU2IFv4HFNAtBuEQwsIzUiJNTrXiUnWNSQo5wCHu8qBvNAhShCX2DanZipo6PR5M2l7HVc6g5rn1kZZ-5FljSvbzl2Z/s320/IMG_20200622_162649.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twayblade, Neottia ovata. Sorry for the photo quality!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiItBt6JdeTrpRqrxpbI1mhv6LR_p8yHPD95Vq36EPt0tnwAo4VRryBU7kyqWQtCxFRvONJonBbuHIW7n0kRXAfa5Itu-VqC3i82CUb6zDWtJSHurqK81Jeof0DykHEzYuq654GgNiDYam8/s1600/IMG_20200622_164502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiItBt6JdeTrpRqrxpbI1mhv6LR_p8yHPD95Vq36EPt0tnwAo4VRryBU7kyqWQtCxFRvONJonBbuHIW7n0kRXAfa5Itu-VqC3i82CUb6zDWtJSHurqK81Jeof0DykHEzYuq654GgNiDYam8/s320/IMG_20200622_164502.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pyramidal Orchid, Anacamptis pyramidalis</td></tr>
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I also found seed heads of Early Purple orchids, Orchis mascula. But it was too early to find any Fragrant orchids, Gymnadenia conopsea - I must return in a couple of weeks!<br />
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Thank God for the amazing diversity of this family of plants, displaying his creative power through evolution!<br />
<br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-34195850634176781162020-05-15T23:20:00.000+00:002020-05-15T23:20:16.137+00:00Lilies of the field - a refection for the feast day of St Brendan, 16 May 2020<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” Matthew 6:28,29.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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So says Jesus, an acute observer of the natural world, when he urges his disciples not to worry about tomorrow, because today’s trouble is enough for today. The fields and hills of Galilee in his time abounded with wildflowers and other living creatures, testifying to the lavish love God shows for all his creation. But in my lifetime, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>here in Ireland as in so much of the world, modern farming practices – crop monocultures, weed killers, insecticides - have greatly reduced this wonderful diversity of life, except in ‘unprofitable land’ like mountains and bogs, and small areas preserved accidentally. We have been making a mess of the beautiful living planet God has given us – I call it out as blasphemy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Graveyards are often the last pieces of unimproved grassland in the neighbourhood, and Killodiernan in North Tipperary, within 5km of my home, is one such. It is a place of pilgrimage for me at this time of Covid-19 restrictions. The short turf is densely packed with many species of wildflowers and grasses growing as a sustainable community, which emerge and bloom in succession throughout the season, before being mown in the autumn. At this time of year early purple orchids star, alongside bugle, and wispy clouds of pignut, amid the last of the cowslips and primroses. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVKiAKhBfhENmgY7C8RWv2X2ObNDtUFntaqVYIxL6bQr3cKAo6ToW1viKep0FQ1FlOyH_f6riY4EKXAco8N3L1Kbs3GgIkRq7iUAo1Gl5fN2fcvPbKgCH4UL5Rljs01C6OmEKaPKhkjbV/s1600/IMG_20200515_161916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="893" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVKiAKhBfhENmgY7C8RWv2X2ObNDtUFntaqVYIxL6bQr3cKAo6ToW1viKep0FQ1FlOyH_f6riY4EKXAco8N3L1Kbs3GgIkRq7iUAo1Gl5fN2fcvPbKgCH4UL5Rljs01C6OmEKaPKhkjbV/s320/IMG_20200515_161916.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The star of the show - Early Purple Orchid</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GphlprlBENfvcE8q6SY_VixY-zwflzn7mfoP9K0cIXWCkZ6Gpm-OUg-Qlkd6YvptW_qPGz_LjtZ1zZu04okQJ1lgNcEu49Vic86h51F3rUzbq6cBGGvSdJskzoS6UYe-JLCJV-44guTS/s1600/IMG_20200515_162312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1191" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GphlprlBENfvcE8q6SY_VixY-zwflzn7mfoP9K0cIXWCkZ6Gpm-OUg-Qlkd6YvptW_qPGz_LjtZ1zZu04okQJ1lgNcEu49Vic86h51F3rUzbq6cBGGvSdJskzoS6UYe-JLCJV-44guTS/s320/IMG_20200515_162312.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A stand of Bugle</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwimoZLzG6EPF0S2wmZV3QD_IpS7H6v6SKsVwmnz_2o9FC-FIQN-oHArfyTtQPOI18QWq93sD_fbw0LORKvmu4t1saUSb-s5HL1GHdicpt_3MCvdgOOngmNFPj-3lqpjJ2HfuiUVXN13Y5/s1600/IMG_20200515_162025_BURST002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1171" data-original-width="1522" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwimoZLzG6EPF0S2wmZV3QD_IpS7H6v6SKsVwmnz_2o9FC-FIQN-oHArfyTtQPOI18QWq93sD_fbw0LORKvmu4t1saUSb-s5HL1GHdicpt_3MCvdgOOngmNFPj-3lqpjJ2HfuiUVXN13Y5/s320/IMG_20200515_162025_BURST002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Wispy clouds of Pignut</td></tr>
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Other species will take over soon, including mouse-ear hawkweed, germander speedwell, quaking grass, and three more kinds of orchids, until late summer paints the graveyard blue with devils-bit scabious. This is a rare survival, an ever-changing, beautiful tapestry of colour and texture, preserved by the accident of the church being built here, and managed sensitively by the church wardens for wildlife. Other local pastures must have looked like this to the delight of our forebears for hundreds of years, before they were reseeded with rye-grass and fertilised to maximise productivity.<br />
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This type of grassland is not natural, however. The climax vegetation here would have been woodland after the last glaciation. What we see now is the work of human beings over millennia, who felled the trees and worked with the grain of nature to make a living from the land. And since the graveyard was enclosed, generations of faithful worshippers have left their mark too by planting other exotic flowers, including snowdrops, daffodils and bluebells, montbretia and fairy foxgloves, now naturalised. What we see now is a product of both change and continuity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Fairy Foxglove from the Dolomites clings to the lime-mortared wall</td></tr>
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And Killodiernan church itself is a product of both change and continuity. The present building replaced the medieval parish church a mile away, in ruins since the 17th Century. It dates from 1811, as recorded on a date stone. </div>
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Originally a simple barn-church with tower and small gallery, it was built to hold 150 people with a grant from the Board of First Fruits. Drawings by James Pain c.1830 show box pews and a central pulpit and prayer desk between the two windows on the north side of the nave. The present chancel and vestry were added in 1879, when the box pews and central pulpit were removed, making way for east-facing pews, with pulpit, prayer desk and altar table at the east-end. One of the north windows was bricked in to make room for the vestry, and a pot-bellied iron stove was also installed to provide heating, since replaced by electric heating.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Killodiernan church sits comfortably in its graveyard</td></tr>
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Today our human society is in the grip of the corona virus, disrupting our society and its economy, and bringing sickness and death to many. We do not know what the future will bring. We hope for a return to some kind of normality, but we know it will not be what we have been used to. And even when the pandemic passes - as it will - we know that we must face up to the twin existential crises of climate change and biodiversity loss, brought on by our over-exploitation of natural resources, in other words by sinful human greed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But Jesus tells us not to let anxiety overwhelm us. We are enfolded in the love of the God he calls Father, and guided by the Holy Spirit. There will be change, but there will also be continuity. The natural world burgeons with new life, driven by the inexorable seasons. The caring response of our communities to Covid-19 shows that we can respond to challenges we face. Our task is to work to overcome today’s evils, while making the new world more like God’s kingdom than the old world we leave behind. We are in much the same situation as St Brendan and his monks when they launched their currach into the sea in search of the island of paradise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you doubt this, I recommend a pilgrimage to a little bit of heaven near you – seek and you shall find!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-88338773573034218862020-04-08T15:16:00.000+01:002020-04-08T15:18:40.511+01:00Willow patterns <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JxsOLSf6R1RC6T2IOdUdWdZ_Cpq7yK2VA6-JSvgLPaKlE5j0prNWnqeojsZNFmug_3GeSuCPxcbAbk0wNDmXeeXRE8fe7O9HVltE36hdMpKBNrtsYGYMLfTIqeOVUf7RGDTEZyPkksV4/s1600/IMG_20200403_151827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="690" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JxsOLSf6R1RC6T2IOdUdWdZ_Cpq7yK2VA6-JSvgLPaKlE5j0prNWnqeojsZNFmug_3GeSuCPxcbAbk0wNDmXeeXRE8fe7O9HVltE36hdMpKBNrtsYGYMLfTIqeOVUf7RGDTEZyPkksV4/s320/IMG_20200403_151827.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Golden Willows, pollarding in progress</i></td></tr>
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Yesterday I finished pollarding the ornamental willows in the wildflower border between the croquet lawn and the beech hedge. Their bare stems provide winter colour, but every year they must be cut down to the stumps or they would grow too tall, and older stems lose their vivid colour. It looks rather brutal, but within a few weeks the stumps spring into growth, and by the autumn the shoots are up to 8 ft tall. In winter sun they become brilliant candles against the brown leaves of the beech.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nAgru3COHteBhr__zRNdVx-NwqGi137bEv0nyLDb3_DOLB93BeW8WJlCrbqkD0j5NRhlH6xs80yLSfE1P3ZNSC4BR2ZJ4rHKSul137lQzEYTICRgYhymSnaRzoWw6Rc51QlprZK58ip6/s1600/IMG_20200403_154401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="894" data-original-width="670" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nAgru3COHteBhr__zRNdVx-NwqGi137bEv0nyLDb3_DOLB93BeW8WJlCrbqkD0j5NRhlH6xs80yLSfE1P3ZNSC4BR2ZJ4rHKSul137lQzEYTICRgYhymSnaRzoWw6Rc51QlprZK58ip6/s320/IMG_20200403_154401.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A brutally pollarded stump</i></td></tr>
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There are 3 each of 3 different varieties: Golden Willow (Salix alba 'Vitellina'), Coral Willow (Salix alba 'Britzensis'), and Violet Willow (Salix daphnoides 'Aglaia'). When I planned the planting I was aiming for a rainbow effect and chose cultivars said to be of equal vigour. For me, however, 'Britzensis' is somewhat outgrown by the other two, and though the tips of the stems are coral red, the effect is little different to 'Vitellina'. 'Aglaia' stems are such a dark red that they barely stand out against the hedge, but they do produce some 'pussy willow' blossoms in March. I sometimes wonder if I should have stuck with just 'Britzensis', but truth to tell I love them all!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>'Aglaia's pussy catkins</i></td></tr>
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The border beneath the willows is mostly planted with native wildflowers, though there are also snowdrops and a few daffodills,which bloom successively from now to the summer. They seed themsleves around and the only maintenance they need is a rough chop back of last years dead stems, and removing perennial weeds like docks and dandelions, which otherwise would take over. It becomes a lovely ever-changing tapestry of colour. The show begins with Red Campion (just starting now) continuing with White Campion and pink hybrids, continuing in the summer with Dog Daisy and blue Meadow Cranesbill, with Great Knapweed, Chicory and wild Marjoram continuing on to autumn.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVC0UBBVt43c1aGMb1ENlkS958iH-OoYmW4r2pVXKLp4_cUVi8BF-vw0Vut0xjR7jRVORFUKtxohPI29GUXJxphO4dgO6MbOJSFdtBRlmmFGVNbqdHZLy54VdrvDPb0DDmBTMV0Qwt01F/s1600/180530WillowBorder.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVC0UBBVt43c1aGMb1ENlkS958iH-OoYmW4r2pVXKLp4_cUVi8BF-vw0Vut0xjR7jRVORFUKtxohPI29GUXJxphO4dgO6MbOJSFdtBRlmmFGVNbqdHZLy54VdrvDPb0DDmBTMV0Qwt01F/s320/180530WillowBorder.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Wildflower Border at the end of May 2018</i></td></tr>
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<br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-66368897381175955272020-04-05T16:38:00.000+01:002020-04-05T16:50:49.268+01:00Rest in peace,Tim Robinson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was deeply saddened to learn of the death of Tim Robinson in London on 3rd April 2020 at the age of 85 from Covid-19, just 2 weeks after the death of his wife and colaborator Mairéad, whom he always called 'M' in his books. Although I never met him, he has been part of my life through his maps and books for nearly 30 years.<br />
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When I first came home to Ireland, struggling with much sadness, my refuge and garden of delights was the Burren in Co. Clare, where I escaped for weekends to walk and explore as often as I could. Tim Robinson's Burren map was my constant companion. I revelled in its bare limestone rocks eroded by water, its botanical teasures, and the traces left by its human inhabitants over millenia, from neolithic tombs, through iron age forts, to medieval abbeys and cathedrals. My original map has become dog-eared and stained from use, but I have it still. I bought a second and a third copy, but I lent them out and they haven't returned - I will need to buy yet another when Covid-19 is over and I am able to visit the Burren again.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim Robinson's map, showing the location of <br />the ruined house of 'P. J. Kelly, Botanist, d.1937'</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAtjLpJiD7sCBcPQsniHdj2W4VSOHE9xJKcV0iHPKMPlTQd7N1d8B6JKOG5iI6CuK29IXSPRJRLE0Kw2y8mofC2MWDKCjMQAFpUjMRGbao8F3a1jYoT1_eHZ1FA7KUUIQH9ixhJswZbFsj/s1600/IMG_20200405_150644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="1045" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAtjLpJiD7sCBcPQsniHdj2W4VSOHE9xJKcV0iHPKMPlTQd7N1d8B6JKOG5iI6CuK29IXSPRJRLE0Kw2y8mofC2MWDKCjMQAFpUjMRGbao8F3a1jYoT1_eHZ1FA7KUUIQH9ixhJswZbFsj/s320/IMG_20200405_150644.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><i>Tim Robinson's map, showing the location of<br />the Glen of Clab, and Poll an Bhallain</i></td></tr>
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His map introduced me to many secret corners of the Burren. Places like the ruined home and overgrown garden of Patrick O'Kelly, an amateur botanist who made a living selling Burren wild flowers by mail order in the first half of the 20th century - there I found Coralroot (Cardamine bulbifera), an uncommon plant he must have introduced that still persists. And the Glen of Clab, the lined by spring gentians (Gentiana verna), leading to the massive circular depression Poll an Bhallain - a polje caused by the collapse of an underground cavern carved out of the limestone by water.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXpar_DzlMPu-iTdyypuzwBKgKXPQIJrzgc9AafKGOjU975NHxR9XjTxl9kqvRHhqYk3Aa4og80kN1Ftm9pOLaxT324M71JcBxsEDhs5SnaWz9m65dpiPvQYig2MvH4HhROzoegwhgl_rT/s1600/IMG_20200405_144551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="607" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXpar_DzlMPu-iTdyypuzwBKgKXPQIJrzgc9AafKGOjU975NHxR9XjTxl9kqvRHhqYk3Aa4og80kN1Ftm9pOLaxT324M71JcBxsEDhs5SnaWz9m65dpiPvQYig2MvH4HhROzoegwhgl_rT/s320/IMG_20200405_144551.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
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Later on, I discovered Tim Robinson's books, the 2 volume 'Stones of Arran', and the 'Connemara' trilogy. In these books he disects the landscapes to the minutest detail, recovers the stories of their inhabitants, and relates them all in a cosmic philosophy of wonder. His writing is gloriously evocative.<br />
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Most recently I have been reading his last book of essays, 'Experiments on Reality'. In the Preface he declares a materialist faith, writing:<br />
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<i>'My focus is, as always on the multitudinous ways in which our physicak bodies relate to the physical universe. This commitment to material nature in its wondrous plenitude encourages me to reappropriate terms, themes and tones long regarded as the property of religion, and dares me to denounce supernaturalism as blasphemy.'</i></blockquote>
Although I am sure he would deny it, for me his life's work reveals more than a little of the glory of our loving Creator God.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim Robinson near his home in Roundstone, Connemara, Co Galway. </i><br />
<i>Photograph: Brian Farrell</i></td></tr>
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<br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-87151881787836705282020-04-03T18:35:00.000+01:002020-04-03T18:36:20.211+01:00Peas, please! - Friday 3rd April 2020<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Young pea plants of the variety 'Homesteader', grown by Marty</i></td></tr>
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My wife Marty has taken me to task for calling the garden I share with her 'my' garden in this blog, although of course it belongs to us both. Like many homes with two keen gardeners, we each have our own parts and our own jobs. Marty manages our handsome front garden with the help of our skilled gardener Geraldine, and raises most of the vegetables, which she plants out into raised beds. I manage the grass, the hedges and shrubs, and the mini woodland I call the wilderness.<br />
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Honour where it is due, today's subject is peas, both as a vegetable and as flowers, and Marty has been busy with them. In the photo above you can see a tray of young pea plants in the greenhouse. The variety is an old one called 'Homesteader', which Marty got on our visit to the US last year - it's not a name I recognise on this side of the Atlantic. It is a heritage variety dating back to the early 1900s, and clearly still popular in America. Marty is delighted with the high germination rate. I look forward to picking and eating fresh peas in a little over 2 months, just cooked for a minute or two with pleanty of farmhouse butter!<br />
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My Grandfather, Jocelyn Waller of Prior Park, grew peas in the 1960s for the Erin Foods factory in Thurles, like many other local farmers - sadly the plant has been closed for many years. They had to be harvested by a contractor at exactly the right time and sent to the factory to be frozen within hours. Do you remember the Birds Eye advertising jingle, "Sweet as the moment when the pod went pop"? It was the same idea. I remember the anxiety in the house as harvest time approached. Were the peas ready? Could the contractor be got in time? Would the peas obtain the desired price at the factory? I'm not sure, but I think he soon decided peas were too much trouble as a crop, and stopped growing them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-poR8QDqV50MDO2Pl4hWINlYb61WC-ubwWdzbJ3BuwxggvMbbroN5Q_QM8jDzDJMvSOYIyVnzb2BmqiG0YdLU9-KML3SidfoBf13NG6izuoiInqp5G8aANIu84BRXeK3anAgCW7IEq33/s1600/IMG_20200403_144539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="893" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-poR8QDqV50MDO2Pl4hWINlYb61WC-ubwWdzbJ3BuwxggvMbbroN5Q_QM8jDzDJMvSOYIyVnzb2BmqiG0YdLU9-KML3SidfoBf13NG6izuoiInqp5G8aANIu84BRXeK3anAgCW7IEq33/s320/IMG_20200403_144539.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marty's Sweet Pea plants waiting to be planted out</td></tr>
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Marty is also growing Sweet Peas in the greenhouse, as she does every year - the seeds were planted in the winter, and as they grow tall they are chopped to make sturdy, branching plants, to plant out when the danger of frosts is past. They are always wonderful, and during the season she picks large fragrant bunches for the house and to give away - I call her "My Sweet Pea Queen of North Tipperary". She says for the year that's in it she wants to concentrate on vegetables, not flowers, but I hope she finds a good place so that these strong plants don't go to waste - a summer without sweet peas would be no summer at all!Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-35982218109263902592020-04-02T20:50:00.000+01:002020-04-02T21:02:27.913+01:00Flower of the day Thursday 2nd April 2020<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PgerXvIhXGvc0Y964PiFdG_Kg2K5AbAPXjYRdTQjdmjdOe1OxJlkDhB7fFOwwWHzFjch2S3PqaoqbVnaTif3Njb4ZjFhDyik0Kl6-Tlhu17sP7PtUjQGrZo2eOPp1JyxFS8fRfzZIze4/s1600/IMG_20200402_143047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1075" data-original-width="1600" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PgerXvIhXGvc0Y964PiFdG_Kg2K5AbAPXjYRdTQjdmjdOe1OxJlkDhB7fFOwwWHzFjch2S3PqaoqbVnaTif3Njb4ZjFhDyik0Kl6-Tlhu17sP7PtUjQGrZo2eOPp1JyxFS8fRfzZIze4/s320/IMG_20200402_143047.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lesser Celandine (Ficaria verna)</i></td></tr>
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Today's flower is the beautiful Lesser Celandine, another wildling, a harbinger of Spring. It brightens the darkest ditch or woodland with its gleaming yellow cups before the leaves of trees cut out the light. It has blessed me by coming into the garden as a volunteer without my help. I did once plant a small patch I found in the ditch with pretty black markings on its heart-shaped leaves, but that seems to have reverted to the ordinary wild type. There are several much more spectacular varieties you can buy in the horticultural trade, such as 'Brazen Hussy' and 'Coppernob' with dark purple leaves, and 'Collarette' with double flowers - but I really prefer the wild type.<br />
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The proper scientific name for the Lesser Celandine is Ficaria verna, but the older among us will know it by the name given it by the great 18th century botanist Carl Linnaeus - Ranunculus ficaria L. This reveals its close relationship to the buttercups in the genus Ranunculus. Oh why do the botanical systematists keep changing the names of the plants we learned as children!<br />
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Another, much less attractive name for it is Pilewort, because historically it was used to treat piles (hemorrhoids). An ointment of raw leaves is still recommended in some herbal guides for application to the affected area. Supposedly, the knobby tubers of the plant resemble piles, and according to the doctrine of signatures, this resemblance suggested that Pilewort could be used to cure piles. Please don't try this at home - far better to enjoy the fleeting blossoms!<br />
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Wordsworth, when he wasn't wandering lonely as a cloud admiring daffodills, was very fond of Celandines - he wrote no fewer than three poems about them. Here are the first lines of one of them:<br />
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<b>To the small Celandine</b><br />Pansies, Lilies, Kingcups, Daisies,<br />Let them live upon their praises;<br />Long as there's a sun that sets<br />Primroses will have their glory;<br />Long as there are Violets,<br />They will have a place in story:<br />There's a flower that shall be mine,<br />'Tis the little Celandine.</blockquote>
<br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-15649063028926494922020-04-01T19:23:00.000+01:002020-04-01T19:27:32.467+01:00Flower of the day - Wednesday 1st April 2020<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHirHUB2RF25lmxlrSBQS2f1IA0b-HgZYSEji2InXOSYOd6R7URMQLvOMDHJRViT2T2qydlgQhqp4yUyGI3nkYPiwn74fHFMqW9LK5YzYUYQVg5OSRoi4-9d9PMZ0gsEIm560-JGQa_4CC/s1600/IMG_20200401_182314_BURST001_COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="787" data-original-width="1006" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHirHUB2RF25lmxlrSBQS2f1IA0b-HgZYSEji2InXOSYOd6R7URMQLvOMDHJRViT2T2qydlgQhqp4yUyGI3nkYPiwn74fHFMqW9LK5YzYUYQVg5OSRoi4-9d9PMZ0gsEIm560-JGQa_4CC/s320/IMG_20200401_182314_BURST001_COVER.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Wild primroses - Primula vulgaris ssp vulgaris</i></td></tr>
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Our native Irish primroses are making a fine sight in the bank at the back of the garden just now. Wildlings, they are such a mark of Spring in ditches and woods right across the country, and worthy of a place in any garden.<br />
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The proper scientific name for primroses is Primula vulgaris, and our wild ones with pale yellow flowers are a subspecies: Primula vulgaris ssp. vulgaris, native across western and southern Europe. The latin epiphet 'vulgaris' means 'common'. Occasionally, rather muddy, light pink individuals grow wild or in cottage gardens alongside the more usual light yellow variety.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnJLa30tWjbWKaRIYw7cKDsoCjW0pVkxRoP5HXTSwW7IqtZLIXeU2n3c_LfP24ixUFyCTTsc1ePPIBN1kHELTfm05kcn1wLEHjLuZbDyOvmEF3tioGnDVH-zo-KF3RimUXCI2csjk-LQE/s1600/110228PrimulaVulgarisSibthorpii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnJLa30tWjbWKaRIYw7cKDsoCjW0pVkxRoP5HXTSwW7IqtZLIXeU2n3c_LfP24ixUFyCTTsc1ePPIBN1kHELTfm05kcn1wLEHjLuZbDyOvmEF3tioGnDVH-zo-KF3RimUXCI2csjk-LQE/s320/110228PrimulaVulgarisSibthorpii.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Primula vulgaris ssp. sibthorpii</i></td></tr>
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I also grow another primrose subspecies, Primula vulgaris ssp sibthorpii. This is native to the Balkans and South-west Asia and its flowers vary between a bright light pink and a deep purple. The ones I have are a strong purple and flower much earlier than wild primroses - they began in January, and are now nearly over, with just a few blossoms hanging on.<br />
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I am excited that these two subspecies are hybridising in my garden, despite their different flowering times. The hybrids are very vigorous, floriforous, and a strong bright pink. I shall try to propogate them and pass them on to any fellow gardeners who would like them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcaoF5L1jF5N65pSyQo0Xy6jejT2yCMMJwWr49wIoKIdRufef5ACVv2ZHOdEvXOT5b2IYu7dKAV6Xs8LSyd4JWohVGnIpGKUm_JM7m5JxIDwp6SlBKn51h4XwXcIOnzKN_SwEDJ7nyX9KL/s1600/IMG_20200319_143937+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="781" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcaoF5L1jF5N65pSyQo0Xy6jejT2yCMMJwWr49wIoKIdRufef5ACVv2ZHOdEvXOT5b2IYu7dKAV6Xs8LSyd4JWohVGnIpGKUm_JM7m5JxIDwp6SlBKn51h4XwXcIOnzKN_SwEDJ7nyX9KL/s320/IMG_20200319_143937+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My hybrid Primula vulgaris, growing alongside one of its parents, P.vulgaris sibthorpii</i></td></tr>
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I rejoice in the diversity of God's creation!Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-73808479181734499202020-03-31T18:32:00.000+01:002020-03-31T18:32:06.165+01:00Flower of the day - Tuesday 31st March 2020<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVeZF1M8EsT7jR7_uXwuRgb16esECxDb9MmyUViVTIKe9YhsD9pD2k75gx2RWAc9M28cxW7E0LqYmJinBeITNR98jyYj-SLtI5chWyx7GvSuwrMNXPcr_4T4pQkkEFZVXNp3xOsYDbFQ-/s1600/IMG_20200331_171307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="828" data-original-width="1295" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVeZF1M8EsT7jR7_uXwuRgb16esECxDb9MmyUViVTIKe9YhsD9pD2k75gx2RWAc9M28cxW7E0LqYmJinBeITNR98jyYj-SLtI5chWyx7GvSuwrMNXPcr_4T4pQkkEFZVXNp3xOsYDbFQ-/s320/IMG_20200331_171307.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Magnolia 'Leonard Messel' in bloom today</i></td></tr>
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Magnolia 'Leonard Messel' has come into full flower today - I just love its delicate pink goblets born on bare branches. Strictly speaking it should be called Magnolia x loebneri 'Leonard Messel', because it is a selection of the cross between two Japanese species, M. kobus and M. stellata, which arose by chance at Nymans, Messel's great garden in Sussex. Unfortunately my plant has lost its leader, broken off by the wind because I had grown an everlasting pea through it for interest later in the season, but happily it is growing a new one, so I look forward to it developing into a fine specimen.<br />
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'Leonard Messel' blooms a few weeks later than its parent Magnolia stellata, also in the garden, which is now at its very best, a veritable snow white pyramid of starry blossoms. Later in the season, after the leaves come out, I find it produces a few late flowers which are tinged with pink. M. kobus is white, so I wonder if 'Leonard Messel' gets its beautiful pink from its stellata parent.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgti1yFFckUME0-zmnL0y8YmfbXvfv4IgbqrQk9OIoJxsj1CXoMfAt_YSP4u4qcQA4CPz8fOnmAE2eHdC27JSMkDoenJeLpoG2Tgz2Nd9LZGF2nMhv6a5c-8rup6LCUBfNNEKLjnP2gat1h/s1600/IMG_20200331_171146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="1191" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgti1yFFckUME0-zmnL0y8YmfbXvfv4IgbqrQk9OIoJxsj1CXoMfAt_YSP4u4qcQA4CPz8fOnmAE2eHdC27JSMkDoenJeLpoG2Tgz2Nd9LZGF2nMhv6a5c-8rup6LCUBfNNEKLjnP2gat1h/s320/IMG_20200331_171146.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Magnolia stellata in bloom today</i></td></tr>
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Let us rejoice in the glory of God's creation in these strange times!Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2370167300693832881.post-1026528150640049452020-03-15T00:07:00.000+01:002020-03-20T15:23:34.195+01:00Death stalks the garden<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYC47FCkPeoNTihrjEzIwMJDvbIA4sqbC3urfYiEufQ0PjO-TQFcg4xuWc9ZCATg2XhAa0W5q2kurLOLfm1pW03f1DHNzVv7U9Hx2WQqq15TqMdGmwTtQwtNn9Gdemwlt64zgZWHmKBgXW/s1600/The+pigeon%2527s+wings+%2526+feathers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="992" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYC47FCkPeoNTihrjEzIwMJDvbIA4sqbC3urfYiEufQ0PjO-TQFcg4xuWc9ZCATg2XhAa0W5q2kurLOLfm1pW03f1DHNzVv7U9Hx2WQqq15TqMdGmwTtQwtNn9Gdemwlt64zgZWHmKBgXW/s320/The+pigeon%2527s+wings+%2526+feathers.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The remains of an unfortunate pigeon</td></tr>
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Murder was done in my garden a few days ago. The wings and feathers of an unfortunate wood pigeon lie strewn over the flowerbed beside the water-filled famine pot where pigeons often come to drink. And I think I know the culprit: next day I spotted the feral cat we often see skulking close by, no doubt hoping for another meal. I wrote murder, but that is the wrong word. The cat was simply doing what God has created cats to do, and deserves no moral blame. Cats kill to eat, and God feeds cats as well as people.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hzoXkrOAGmIgBlqEP_SOVONv1eWDXFcoN6AZvJR0l-8gJ56mem1LlM2m7i_f1ijfCeim6ryN8My5kMJ7uNvh8hVzPLqr17pQ2xOSAALewTpEN7AQIX6Av9V5TuEwPI-aCt17MZIYbaGF/s1600/The+culprit+-+a+feral+cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="430" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hzoXkrOAGmIgBlqEP_SOVONv1eWDXFcoN6AZvJR0l-8gJ56mem1LlM2m7i_f1ijfCeim6ryN8My5kMJ7uNvh8hVzPLqr17pQ2xOSAALewTpEN7AQIX6Av9V5TuEwPI-aCt17MZIYbaGF/s320/The+culprit+-+a+feral+cat.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The culprit - a feral cat</td></tr>
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We all know that a different killer is stalking God’s wider garden just now – the Covid-19 corona virus – and we human beings are its prey.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIe0MpHUFy7zlN-43-RR3jTtFZTm4CNehkFBrK_H4ik9QyJp5-W1tG_8VM62NOMgVuA1jThIgbNRuCwfGFk9iYb1r2Lb3ncMqoGruqvJYutP7ehkIn3R4nt468v5KYDzQkGrdvkKf1e9KS/s1600/922px-Novel_Coronavirus_SARS-CoV-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="922" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIe0MpHUFy7zlN-43-RR3jTtFZTm4CNehkFBrK_H4ik9QyJp5-W1tG_8VM62NOMgVuA1jThIgbNRuCwfGFk9iYb1r2Lb3ncMqoGruqvJYutP7ehkIn3R4nt468v5KYDzQkGrdvkKf1e9KS/s320/922px-Novel_Coronavirus_SARS-CoV-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Transmission electron microscope image of the corona virus (Credit: NIAID-RM)</span></span></td></tr>
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It appears that for most the disease is quite mild. But it kills a proportion of both older people like me and those with pre-existing conditions - though even for these 90% or so will recover. The Chinese and the Koreans seem to have brought it under some control, and we can pray that we in Europe will do so too, but I think most of us will be infected eventually. Lives can be saved if we succeed in reducing the rate that it spreads (‘flattening the curve’), so that the health service is not overwhelmed, and those who need intensive care can get it. This is why it is so important for us to follow official public health guidance. Let us be the good people God has made us to be by doing so, showing God’s love to our neighbours.<br />
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I do not fear death. I know I am mortal, but I would like to stay around for a bit yet. I hope to see the grandchildren grow up, perhaps even to welcome their children. Of course I am apprehensive about dying, dreading indignity and suffering, though perhaps Covid-19 is not the worst death. I will accept what comes, but not facilitate it.<br />
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The way I see it is this. My life from birth to death is like a piece of 3 dimensional string in the 4 dimensions of space-time, starting at birth and ending in death. My life-string twines around the life-strings of every other person I encounter along the way, including family, friends, neighbours and strangers. God is not constrained by dimensions and sees the whole of my life-string, from birth to death. Love is what pleases God. God judges me as a function of the love I show, both for him and for every person my life-string touches, summed over the whole of my life-string. I know that I often displease God. But despite the times I have displeased him, I believe that God is forgiving and will always love me, always love the whole of my life-string, just as he sees and loves everyone else’s. This, to me, is eternal life, why I do not fear death.<br />
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And God’s garden is full of life as well as death. While we humans worry about Covid-19, the natural world burgeons and unfolds as the days lengthen, this year as every year. The buds of Magnolia stellata in my garden have opened already. The pussy willow is yellow with pollen for the bees. And other pigeons are billing and cooing, getting ready to raise a new generation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-ja-Y5wxL-7atAvMAqOVZa02nSUlTQFTptQppIFod51OPVn0mX8oeSzil4kXeypYWL_NlsmMxrmRnV35pxsUiLCaS1E7E_oTxqzbumVZOWoFj9E9RcQ2wMRCg5ecInKULDjkmNtUJfWi/s1600/Magnolia+stellata+bursting+into+flower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1165" data-original-width="1600" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-ja-Y5wxL-7atAvMAqOVZa02nSUlTQFTptQppIFod51OPVn0mX8oeSzil4kXeypYWL_NlsmMxrmRnV35pxsUiLCaS1E7E_oTxqzbumVZOWoFj9E9RcQ2wMRCg5ecInKULDjkmNtUJfWi/s320/Magnolia+stellata+bursting+into+flower.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnolia stellata bursting into flower</td></tr>
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<br />Joc Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290924194054115128noreply@blogger.com0