Sunday morning, we were having garden visitors and I was doing some tidying up. Once in a while it is good to remove the pots, rake, wheelbarrow, stray plants, gloves, multiple pairs of shoes and all manner of other paraphernalia I leave around the garden. When all is cleared away I wonder why I can't keep it looking this way all the time. But I can't.
So, the sun was already over the tree tops by the time I had finished and before I decided to get my camera out. The sunken garden was still in shadow and even though the poppies were still closed there was plenty of color.
Those tall spikes in the potager are Verbena bonariensis. I have often wondered how, in English gardens, those spires buried in among other plants in the herbaceous borders, reach such dizzying heights. Now I think it is a result of a milder winter like the one we just had. That crop of plants, bluebonnets, blanket flowers and verbena are all growing between the pavers. They look so pretty I don't have the heart to pull them out.
I have pulled out bucket loads of bluebonnets this week. A few came into the house. They actually last quite a long time; probably glad to get away from all the overcrowding. Many came out of the English garden where it is now possible to see the stepping stones. But most came out of the front courtyard.
It hardly look as though I have made a dent in the population.
No bluebonnets in the front garden next year. I distinctly remember uttering those words a few years ago.