Jan 31st 2005 - Sunsets
I’m pleased to say that one of the root cuttings, taken on the 5th of January, has put out shoots. I can’t be sure what it is yet but suspect that it’s the Papaver because of the roundness of the shoot tips. Could be wrong, of course; we’ll see.
"...what their length would be if one blew down and fell towards the house"
This has been a week of turmoil in more ways than one. There has been more strong wind and a good deal of wetness so I’ve done little outside. I’m waiting for a dry day so that I can get outside and take up this turf from under the tree, but don’t want to be stamping about on what’s left of the lawn if it’s so muddy. Today a cold wind is blowing strongly from the north and it’s been raining every ten minutes or so.
The mature beech and sycamore trees over the road are bending just enough for me to start considering what their length would be if one blew down and fell towards the house. My guess is that the belt of sycamores were planted in front of the shallower rooted beeches for a good reason and that we’re safe.
What I can get on with in this weather is starting off some seeds. Meg from college very kindly gave me an envelope of Eccremocarpus scaber seeds this week, after I’d admired them last summer in her garden, and they can be started off in the propagator about now. It’s a climbing plant with tubular orange flowers and finely cut dark green foliage. It doesn’t weigh a lot and will work well to twine through shrubs.
"...The small brightly coloured flowers stood out beautifully against the dark green foliage of the hedge ."
I saw some of it growing up a high conifer hedge that borders the kitchen garden at Burton Agnes, north-east of Hull and not far from Beverley. The small brightly coloured flowers stood out beautifully against the dark green foliage of the hedge and I’d love to see it growing in our garden.
I have so many seeds that I shall pass some on to friends and family; sure they’d like them too. Although I’ve read that Eccremocarpus isn’t fully hardy, the soil here is sandy and well-drained so I’m willing to bet that it will survive in this area if the plants have the protection of larger plants about them.
To the second turmoil: the mock exam. It was neither totally serious nor full length but simply there to show us what we need to do for the Big Day. We sat down first to 25 short questions, with one hour to answer them.
The RHS doesn’t do multiple choice so there is no guessing and the only option is to scuff about in your memory to locate and organise the vast amount of information that we’ve been taught. I have to say that, although the answers to the short questions were necessarily short, trying to access such a wide range of information at short notice isn’t particularly easy.
Subject areas for the short questions covered plant structure and processes, cultural practices, weeds, pests, diseases, greenhouse growing and shrubs for dry shade.
"...How much sense I made is anyone’s guess, but I did at least managed to keep writing for all but the last five minutes."
A 15 minute break was followed by the second paper, also an hour, where we chose two questions from five. I chose to write about fruit tree cultivation techniques and the establishment of an annuals border.
How much sense I made is anyone’s guess, but I did at least managed to keep writing for all but the last five minutes, which I’d set aside for checking over the answers. We’ll find out how we got on this coming week. I swing between feeling fairly confident to wondering if I’m about to be exposed as a complete idiot.
After the trials of the morning, a small group of us went out for a longer walk than usual after lunch. We wanted to see Normanby’s Christmas Garden, where the snowdrops are just coming into full bloom. Drifts of snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) have been planted under the trees, along with patches of little pink Cyclamen coum and yellow Eranthis hyemalis. The green spikes of Daffodils are just starting to show, too, so it will be worth several more visits to see the winter and early spring colour developing.
One of the pleasant asides of studying at Normanby Hall is the drive there and back. Although it’s near Scunthorpe, the hall itself is in a rural location and far enough away from the town that you wouldn’t know it’s there. When I first started the course, I didn’t know the back route and went via Scunthorpe, alongside the steelworks and generally through heavy traffic.
Then it occurred to me, when I’d had enough of it and finally had a good look at a map, that it would be infinitely better to go along Ermine Street instead, through rural farmland on quiet, narrow country roads.
"...Better still are the glorious orange and purple sunsets above frosty fields."
Ermine Street is an old Roman road that once ran from London to York. It cuts across almost entirely flat land so your view is largely made up of a vast area of sky, except for a wold in the distance. There are mornings when the fine mist is still floating above the fields and the land seems to retreat before you in layers of greenish-grey, gradually paling as it fades.
Better still are the glorious orange and purple sunsets above frosty fields. I’ve learned now to keep the camera on the seat next to me for these moments. Nothing does justice to the sight of the real thing but recording such a beautiful vision helps to keep it in mind.
"The ground was hard and frosty and the air was icy cold but the whole sky was on fire"
There was one of these magnificent sunsets a few weeks ago and I stopped the car to get out and marvel at it. The ground was hard and frosty and the air was icy cold but the whole sky was on fire, with the few clouds gleaming in burnished gold.
As I stood there marvelling, unbecomingly slack-jawed, I heard the sound of faint honking and looked up to see a flock of hundreds of geese flying high above me, headed into the setting sun. It was a perfect moment.
© Copyright Miranda Hodgson 2005