Dark thoughts

Perhaps it's the weather. All those overcast skies and leaden clouds make the dark-leafed plants come to life.

When the sun shines the sombre foliage disappears into a black hole, but when the storm clouds roll in and that strange half-light fills the garden it takes on a melodramatic glow. Just right for the late summer slide into autumn.

The cannas have been slow to get going because of the cold season but now they are relishing all the rain and producing late, vibrant flowers. The stripey maroon, orange and olive leaves of canna 'Durban' look like old fashioned school blazers and contrast strikingly with the honey-bush melianthus.

Purple-leafed vine 'Teinturier' was hidden last month by a violet clematis, but now it is beginning to show some autumn colour. The occasional scarlet leaf is like an exotic flower from a distance and the neat little bunches of blue-black grapes look tempting even if tongue- curlingly inedible.

The shiny holly 'Blue Angel' has adorned itself with crimson berries in a pre-festive season display. I know by Christmas the blackbirds will have gorged themselves and left nothing for my indoor decorations [but wire on a few beads and who's to know?]

And the 'Zwartkopf' aeoniums are so black-shiny and turgid with rain they look as though they will pop.

Uninvited guest.

      

                                       

 There was a visitor in the garden today. A dark-eyed rogue perched on the bird table nibbling in a charming manner.

Great table etiquette - a little of this, not too much of that, all eaten in a very tidy way.

He saw me approaching and at first ignored me, but eventually leapt into the cherry tree from where I thought he would scoot across the other gardens and disappear.

After a few seconds a bushy tail appeared around the tree trunk and shook vigorously in my direction. 

Having failed to frighten me away, a small face peeped around, decided I was no threat and returned to his feast.

While I was charmed by the novelty of having a squirrel in the garden, my partner was not and ran up the path clapping his hands and shooing it away.

He's right of course.

It's a rat with a tail and will only steal the eggs and nestlings from any bird nests in the spring.

But for the moment I don't mind if he makes an occasional return and shares the bird seed with the starlings and sparrows....as long as he doesn't tell his friends.

 

It's the little things that count.

 The garden is full of colour.

 

Dahlias, pelargoniums, petunias and begonias are all strutting their stuff and flaunting their gorgeousness.

 

Cannas are at their finest with striped and gaudy foliage and frilly petalled blooms glowing at the tips of the stems.

But the flower that stopped me in my tracks this morning is very small, inconspicuous and soberly coloured.

I discovered it while watering the pots in my conservatory - a tiny purpley-mauve earthstar at the base of a 'Milky Way' aspidistra.I've never seen one before and it was one of those rare gardening moments where all you can say is 'Oh!'