It wasn't particularly subtle, but last night when I was scarifying the grass before the expected rain came, a robin and a pair of blackbirds took grave exception to my being in 'their' garden at all. The noise level was incredible, and absolutely wonderful. I finished the task and went inside, leaving the garden to them, with a big smile on my face and a feeling all was right with the world, not something we get too often. Today while it rains and greens up the grass, they are down finding all the things I scraped up, picking up bits of loose moss and grass - while I admire a large pot of cream tulips - balm for the sould gardening is - sometimes.
I love it too ever since seeing a few plants in the field behind where I grew up. I have it in my meadow and increase it with plugs grown from seed where I feel there isn't enough of it. I always known it as 'ladies' smock or cuckoo flower' since that's how it was labelled in my wildflower book as a child. :-)
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It wasn't particularly subtle, but last night when I was scarifying the grass before the expected rain came, a robin and a pair of blackbirds took grave exception to my being in 'their' garden at all. The noise level was incredible, and absolutely wonderful. I finished the task and went inside, leaving the garden to them, with a big smile on my face and a feeling all was right with the world, not something we get too often. Today while it rains and greens up the grass, they are down finding all the things I scraped up, picking up bits of loose moss and grass - while I admire a large pot of cream tulips - balm for the sould gardening is - sometimes.