Sunday, 3 March 2013

43>My garden

My garden has come of age.

Three years on and I am planting potatoes back where I first started.

I am quarrying into the precious contents of my first compost heap and spreading it on as many beds as I can. The bottom layers are still crunchy with half rotted bracken, which dominated this land early on.

I have an army of weeds ready to march at a moments notice to any bare earth.


But the sparkling jewel in the crown is the robin who has adopted the garden, and proclaims his dominion in sweet song from a fence post.

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