As the seasons ebb and flow, so too does the ever-changing beauty of our founder Lucy’s cottage garden. Each month, she shares quiet musings from among the borders - small joys, new discoveries, and the gentle rhythms of nature as they unfold. From the first unfurling petals of spring to the mellow glow of autumn, these notes offer a glimpse into a garden forever in motion.
April brings the tulips, which always feel like the start of spring proper. They’re wonderfully low maintenance too; each year I leave the old bulbs in the ground and simply layer in a few new ones come autumn. Not all of them come back every year, and some will need digging up before long, but the ones that do return feel all the lovelier for it. There’s something about them that softens with time. The Belle Epoques in particular settle into themselves as they go on – there’s less of that early peach now, and more of a duskier, faded pink that sits so well against the green.
Seedlings bursting through daily and a throng of pots filling out with foliage.
The scent of narcissi drifts through the air, and the fritillaria acmopetala’s lime green bells bow demurely.
My pots are full to bursting now, all lush foliage pushing on at once. One combination I’ve particularly loved this year is the dark, aubergine-toned early leaves of the sambucus, paired with fritillaria acmopetala. The contrast works beautifully – those deep leaves set against the soft lime green and plum of the fritillary bells, which hang so delicately from their stems.
Tulips of every hue signal the start of spring.
Over in the greenhouse, the daily thrill of seeing the seedlings coming through as they sprout is in full swing. The sweet peas were first, as they often are, but the others have followed quickly – cosmos and strawflowers appearing day by day. Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll begin hardening them off, getting them used to the outside air before planting them out once the risk of frost has properly passed.
The garden is alive with pollinators.
