Heroes Not Zombies

I haven’t been in the garden much in recent weeks. After our months long drought and record heat which turned everything brown and crispy we’ve had a few weeks of rain and cold….too wet and too cold to be in the garden. But that’s been followed by a few weeks of rising temperatures and clearer skies. All the crispy brown ground has gone, replaced with soaking wet green and muddy patches here and there.

So I took advantage of a mild sunny day and made a tour of the garden. The first thing I discovered were these snowdrops. First week of January seems early for them and I soon found dozens of daffodil and tulip bulbs sprouting a couple of inches or more above the soil. Signs of new growth emerging everywhere.

We tend to think of winter as a sleepy time in Nature with some animals hibernating, many trees losing their leaves and an absence of buds and flowers, so stumbling across signs of new growth and emergence everywhere creates a feeling of waking up, of winter waning and early spring here already.

I made my way around the new paths I created through the little forest last year. They were covered with dark decomposing leaves and bright green “weeds” bursting through everywhere so I took the leaf rake and cleared the first two paths, then got down on my knees and began pulling out the weeds.

Near the dark earth I could smell the soil and it smelled good. I’m not very well equipped with words to describe smells and I can’t think of a better word than “earthy”! But it got me thinking about the phase of decomposition, something which often disgusts us but which is vital part of life. I’m glad it smelled good because it helped me admire that phase.

You know, as part of learning to be a doctor I had to study physiology and biochemistry and they both explored the full range of “metabolism”….the processes of building up molecules from the ones our cells break down.

Without the balanced forces of creation and destruction there would be no life.

When I say balanced of course I don’t mean equal and static. I mean that dynamic interplay better represented by a Yin Yang symbol than a pair of scales!

As I pulled out the weeds from the path I marvelled at their life force. I planted several different plants in the forest last year but none of them have been remotely as successful as the “indigenous” ones which were there in abundance before I started. This garden has been neglected over many years and the tendency to wildness way outweighs any sense of order. I thought again about the saying “weeds are only plants growing where you don’t want them to grow”, and I fired up my “seek” app to learn a bit more about some of the more abundant ones. Here are the four which caught my attention and sparked my curiosity.

Arum italicum, a variegated form of Arum maculatum……

Both of these plants develop beautiful hood shaped forms with little flowers shielded inside, and, if fertilised, produce bright orange or red berries.

Mercurius annua, sometimes known as French Mercury, or La Roberte! A plant which was used by indigenous peoples in North America as a salve on wounds. It’s described as a prolific plant in “neglected gardens” – well, that explains it!

Geranium rotundiflorium, which probably contributes to that “earthy” smell I mentioned earlier because geraniums do seem to have a distinctive, strong scent.

I wonder if you’re aware of the plants around you which haven’t been planted or nurtured by humans? I’m thinking I have paid them sufficient attention, dismissing them with that pejorative term, “weeds”. Turns out they can be a huge source of delight, fascination and wonder.