Summer is picking peas straight from the pod, that fresh sweet zing of green. Spring is preparing the ground and sowing and planting – waiting, watching, hoping.
I was taking a look at Vita Sackville-West‘s poems The Land and The Garden the other day as I was wondering what to do with my garden and the blog, ruminating on which way to go and how to get there. She gardened at Sissinghurst, a mere 20 miles from me, her references to Spring, written in 1926 have a ring of truth to me today in 2012.
Vita Sackville-West – The Land
There’s no beginning to the farmer’s year,
Only recurrent patterns on a scroll
Unwinding; only use in step with need,
Sharp on the minute when the minute’s come;
A watching, waiting thole,
A reckoning by rule of thumb.
Therefore let no man say, “peas shall be sown
This month or that; now shall the harrow go;
Now scuffle with deep coulters, now with shallow;
Wheat shall succeed to clover; oats to fallow;
Roots after wheat to be grown
Such arbitrary dates and rules are vein;
Not thus the year’s arithmetic is planned,
But to outwit the cunning of the land
That will not yield, and will not yield again
Her due of food and wealth
Unless the moment’s twisted to its use,
Wrung to the utmost by a vigilant hand,
Admitting no unseasonable excuse
I grow heritage climbing peas, they give me such pretty flowers, tendrils and leaves tumbling around a wigwam of canes and beautiful flavours to savour. They brighten my day on the plot giving me a visual feast. Thinking of the treat for sore eyes brightens this particular grey day when the clouds are low, there is a drizzle that soaks the ground and a nip to the air. Right now Summer seems a long way away.
OK, from the sublime to the well, you know it, the ridiculous! Remember the peas sown in loo roll inners? They have grown well, if not a bit slowly and are now planted out.
Climbing Varieties ~ Champion of England, Telephone, Salmon Flowered, Serpette De Guilloteau and Robinson’s Purple Podded.