Peonies

How gorgeous the peonies are now! I love the sheer generosity of them as a flower. 

All winter they are nothing more than a tiny clump of  scruffy-looking leaves at ground level, and then in the spring they come to life and start to grow, sending up striking reddish leaves from the earth.

Then buds form, round and tightly packed with petals, like a Brussels sprout.

Slowly they begin to open, and show a glimpse of their deep pink petals.

Then they open, and all of those petals start to unfurl.

Just when you think they're fully open, they reveal a contrasting centre of bright egg-yellow stamens.

I've planted a few peonies in our garden, including this unusual one. The label described it as red, and it turned out white with red streaks. 

In the back garden I've planted a red and a pale pink one. They won't bloom until next year, so that'll be something I'll look forward to. In the meantime I bought a bunch of pale pink, frilly ones for the window-sill.

They're gorgeously feminine, and in the Language of Flowers they symbolise shame or bashfulness because nymphs were said to live in their petals. They are also considered to be one of China's national emblems, and feature frequently in oriental art.

I dry their petals and mix them with rose petals and lavender flowers to make pot-pourri and scented bags, a reminder of summer all year long x

A Country Garden

Back in March we visited the Walled Garden at Mells. Set in a pretty village full of stone cottages and sweet gardens, the 17th century garden is very beautiful with views over the nearby rolling hills. It's a popular place, especially at weekends.

There was some very pretty early spring planting, like this wheelbarrow.

It was one of those days that surprise you with their sudden warmth at the end of a long winter. There wasn't a lot happening in the beds, but the structure of the garden was easy to see.

Lots of hellebores and primroses were out, but most of the perennials hadn't got going yet.

These white periwinkles were very striking in a shady hedge.

I went again last weekend with a friend, and we spent a warm, sunny afternoon there. Just look at the difference! The perennials had filled out the garden in a flurry of colour.

There were the most gorgeous ruby red oriental poppies, translucent and glowing in the sunlight.

The fruit trees were in full leaf, and plants spilled pleasingly over beds, creating a lovely patchwork of flowers and leaves.

This single peony was gloriously blowsy, eye-catchingly pink in the sun.

The beds had swathes of purple alliums running through them.

The flowers are globes made up of lots of little stars.

Dotted here and there were features such as bird feeders and wrought iron ornaments and screens.

There was also a plant sales area where you can buy the varieties of plants grown in the garden.

We sat at a table in the shade of a tree and had coffee and cake. I was so busy enjoying myself I forgot to take a photo! This is how the cafe area looked in March.

 After that we wandered and looked at the flowers some more. This wonderful blue iris stood out so well in the mixed borders.

 And this peachy-orange rock rose had lovely crinkly petals.

I looked at a centaurea closely. Those long lavender-blue florets are like a lot of long twirly trumpets.

You can't beat a country garden in the summertime, and although we're not yet officially in the summer, it certainly felt like it that day. 

Henry James put it perfectly: 'Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language'.

Think I'm inclined to agree x.