Autumn’s extraordinary surprises

As soon as it starts feeling like autumn, I eagerly search for the first wild flowers — daisies, ladies’ tresses orchids, autumn pink scilla, and cyclamen. Searching for their tell-tale buds in the midst of the greening grass, I am careful where I put my feet, lest I crush an emerging treasure. As always, these dainty flowers catch me by surprise — having unfurled their exquisite petals and leaves while I wasn’t looking. I don’t know what I was expecting — did I want to catch them just at the point of their awakening? Perhaps I was. Perhaps I wanted to watch their buds and stems reaching out to the light — dancing in slow motion. Perhaps I would need to set up a time-exposure camera for that. In the meantime, I am more than content to have witnessed yet another year of their miraculous blooming. Welcome to the Mediterranean’s second spring! Shana tovah u metukah!

Ladies’ tresses orchids, Spiranthes spiralis.
The first of the cyclamen to bloom this year.
The cyclamen’s marbled leaves — these are from another plant not yet in bloom.
Autumn scilla, Prospero autumnale.
The first wild daisies, Bellis perennis, that will eventually carpet the grass.

New beginnings, new discoveries

It is now six weeks since we moved into the cottage. We’ve been away most of that time though, arranging for the shipping of belongings, so that everything still feels strange. I can scarcely believe that our search of a year and two months is over, and that this is now home.

Over the past weeks, the garden has been surprising me daily. What was, months back in the winter, bare ground between the olive trees is now a knee-high sea of yellow, though closer inspection reveals low-growing bright blue flowers (later identified confusingly as blue scarlet pimpernel), pretty pink heads of Allium roseum with a sweet scent unlike its onion relatives, scarlet pimpernels, pink morning glories, and so much more. (Please click on thumbnails to enlarge.)

With such a diversity of wild blooms, I have to look carefully at my feet as I walk around the garden. My plan of sowing Phacelia or narrow-leafed lupines (Lupinus angustifolia) in between the olive trees to be forked in as green manure is now off. I don’t wish to upset the delicate balance between the aboveground and underground microorganisms that produce this biodiversity. Whatever I plant now will have to be sited where there is no plant community: just below the veranda (all it has currently is a purple bougainvillea) and the long gravelled path leading from the gate.

This year my gardening activities will consist largely of waiting and observing what comes up. Each day I look forward to discovering yet another blooming wild flower and sharing my discoveries with you.