Or maybe yellow and pink; or green and pink. Pink anyway. The sun shone after a night of sporadic rain and the roses burst into an abundance of, er, every colour.
But just as I’m taken by the pink I spot the cornflowers. Is there a better blue anywhere any time than cornflower blue? Is that because it matches the Textiliste’s eyes?
Yes a garden by design… but living its own life, doing its own thing, like the best of us do…
I’ll mix the images with a poem of my own, about the field at the end of the garden of our place in Suffolk; the early images are of the vegetables that are beginning to bloom. And then at the end there’s a surprise and an explanation of the title, if you aren’t old enough to remember
There’s a field behind our house
That slopes down to the marshes
And the river beyond:
Chemical green with weed,
Dotted with a pair of swans.
The mirror slope has straw bale trolls
Guarding the village,
Dozing in the morning sun.
Crusted with sleep
I release the desperate dog
To corral sheep
And terrorize rabbits,
Plugging their burrows with his snout.
He trots magisterially around the edge,
Re-marking the bounds
And putting the crows in their place,
While he surveys his empire with distain.
I kick the detritus of the amateur archaeology
Undertaken by the rabbits the day before.
Shard of glass, smoothed by years of grit friction,
Pottery fragments, in abstract shapes,
Metal slivers, once shiny now dun.
And, on top of a sandcastle,
Sits proud a ornamented clay pipe,
Stem now detached,
Patiently awaiting the comfort of fired tobacco
That will never now return.
It is unblemished by the lost years
While it waits to signal one more new dawn,
As it once did
In the hands of a
Be-whiskered Victorian watchman,
Standing where I stand,
Breathing in the fresh salty air I breathe,
Admiring the graceful swans
That I admire,
Before turning and climbing heavily,
Back to the warmth and sanctuary
Of the beautifully proportioned building
That has been home to us both.
And then, there’s this. A friend’s brother has a drone; he filmed our garden from above. It’s quite a fun way to see the place, to understand how it fits. Said friend can be seen wandering about…
“It the Land of Grey and Pink’ was a song and an album by Caravan in 1971. Very of its time, it played in the background to my university years…