When our old plum tree died about five years ago, I was sad. There were great memories associated with that tree. We first moved here about 17 years ago, from a tiny terraced house in London, and it was a revelation to have a large, wild garden which backed on to open fields. In the autumn, we would pick our crop of plums and Bramley apples, and my eldest son, then a toddler, loved to feed the bullocks that clustered around the fence to watch what we were doing (and hoover up any stray windfalls). Those bullocks are long gone, and the tree subsequently died too. Rather than chop it down, I dreamed of training a white clematis over the stump, something I'd once seen in a gardening magazine. Of course, you can't hurry plants and it has taken many years for the clematis to take root and decide that it likes being beside an old plum tree. But this year, I think I can say that it is well established and we have been rewarded with a beautiful display of starry flowers.
Last night, there was a bit of golden sunshine just before dusk fell and it looked so pretty. You can see that parts of my garden are still rather wild (purely for the benefit of the bees and insects you understand!).
Gardening requires patience, something I have only recently started to appreciate.
