I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking that May is whizzing by all too quickly. I’m trying desperately, in amongst the general panic of too much to do-ness, to find time to stop and appreciate what is one of my most favourite times of the year. So I’m taking a quick pit-stop to write a bit about what May means to me.
– late night, torch-light fleecing at the plot
– an emptying greenhouse
– overflowing cold frames
– a car boot full of plants ready to be planted out
– the joy of the first alliums opening
– despair at discovering the first of many holes in my hostas
– forgetting AGAIN to do the Chelsea chop
– and, thereby resigning myself to a summer of staking and floppy plants
– pickings of stock Matthiola incana, the most intoxicating of scents
– panic that I haven’t sown enough and I’ve missed the boat for another year
– panic that I have sown way too much and where is it all going to go
– chive flowers in full bloom lining my fruit beds at the plot
– watering my plot at twilight to the sound of birds
– anticipation after spotting the first swelling fruits on my strawberries
– too many weeds
– the first rose on ‘Gertrude Jekyll’
– the smell of my warm greenhouse
– the miraculous sprouting into life of the overwintered twigs in a pot otherwise known as lemon verbena
– and finally the exhaustion that accompanies all of this. Everything comes at once and it all feels a bit relentless, but then I see the burgeoning garden and I pick some salad leaves, and I know why I do it. This is what keeps me going – along with tea and chocolate of course. Oh!, and the distant glimmer of hope that I might be able to sit down at some point soon. I’d love to know what May means to you.
Have a fabulous weekend everyone!
A brilliant post …you’ve exhausted me …but I wish I’d thought of this.
David Marsden said:
Yes Lou, to all of the above. Bloody marvellous isn’t it? Dave
May means all that and the slight sadness that it will all be over soon. Spring is the grden here. It is a bit like a Chelsea show garden with roses and tulips and azealas and irises!
May is…hawthorn, blackbirds, finally getting to plant things out into the ground. The blissful four weeks when my clay soil is actually workable and lovely. Oh, and the annual ceremony known as First Suncreaming of the childrens’ ears!
What a great post, love your list of what May is all about 🙂
Ms. Greenfingers said:
Dear Wellywoman, I totally agree with you on May. It is wonderful to see the garden come alive and see the seeds work their magic. But for me May is also the month to swap wellies for flipflops and feel the fresh grass between your toes. I will definitely enjoy that this sunny weekend.
I agree with you so much! May is also my favourite month, and I agree with many of your observations. In particular, watering to the sound of the birds. Can I add a few?
– the smell of the hawthorn
– watching the buds, in particular the irises, poppies and roses
– the panic when you feel it’s all running away from you, and you can’t keep up
– what part have I not managed to tend yet?
– the enjoyment of it all as it nears its peak
– this is summer!?
It’s been a lovely May so far. 🙂
I agree that May is whizzing by all too quickly however I’m still managing to keep on top of the plot as far as sowing, weeding, etc. are concerned. I just enjoy walking round each time I go there to see the changes, which at this time of year are noticeable on a daily basis.
Thanks, you too and happy gardening. xx
Diana Studer said:
being able to work my clay soil, fill in some gaps, and harvest some cuttings, autumn roses and aloes turning colour.
It’s lovely that it’s all happening but I realise that we’re only 4 weeks away from the summer equinox – how can that be possible? Although the month is flashing past, there was such a sense of bated breath leading up to this point (especially for those of use without a greenhouse) that it’s really going too fast for me! I’m pretty much there with the sowing and planting, apart from a few beans, and loving home-grown salads. I wish I could slow time down, just for a little while, to enjoy this month! Happy weekend! C xx
Ha! You’re absolutely right.
I always wish that I could press a pause button in May which has always been my favourite month of the year. I think that you’ve covered it in a nutshell WW – only a few additions from me –
It’s my beloved’s birthday month
Candles on the horse chestnuts
Swelling strawberry fruits
Everything is so fresh and green
Wishing you a happy May and hope that you manage to sit down before the month is out!
Backlane Notebook said:
Yes to all that’s on your list plus I’ve taken down the pop up greenhouse which is always a relief. Just lovely pots and plants to be seen.
I can’t quite believe we are in the back straits of May already, I too am fighting slight feelings of panic, interspersed with jolts of pure joy as I look at the chive flowers shining out under the slate grey post thunderstorm skies, or pick salad for lunch, or nick a pea pod to munch as mangetout because I can’t resist… And how, exactly, is it possible to both have way too much and not enough to prick out, pot on, plant?! It’s the time of year that I realise how young this garden is, because large areas are still not very floriferous, but on the other hand I will get to plant out the dahlias soon, which thrills me, as I know I will be here for years so I can look forward to this being the first year of many, of this annual ritual. As for the suddenly emptying greenhouse, it always both relieves me and makes me sad, but there again, time to sow aquilegias, biennials of various sorts, take cuttings… And hey, still time for that Chelsea Chop, the show hasn’t really started yet!
The Chelsea chop still awaits but I have sown my biennials. Time has conspired against me so far for chopping and now the heavens have opened to thunderous downpours. My allotment will take no more plants now. There is no more room in the inn. There’s always the worry I haven’t grown enough for what I need for the book. But if there’s nowhere else for it to go anyway I’ll have to make do with what I have. 😉 Yes must remember to do that breathing thing, that tends to help doesn’t it, although it seems very easy to forget sometimes. ;0
Most of what you write resonates with me. Plus, May is birds singing, birds breeding, me not feeling endlessly torn between wanting to go birding and having mile long lists of things to do in the garden. And it’s just the most beautiful of months in the garden and out there in nature.
It is a stunning month, one which seems to move all too quickly. The birds are incredible at this time of year. We got up at 4am the other weekend to experience the dawn chorus in a local wood. It was fantastic.