For the last week the nectarine and peach trees in the greenhouse have been flowering, contrary to my request for them to wait until it got a little warmer. I would love to call these specimens espalier or fan-trained but the reality is probably closer to “random art house” which may be new to you but I assure you is all the rage in North Devon. I have been fretting about their pollination as, and I can’t blame them, the bees seem to be keeping a very low profile. Hero’s quite brilliant suggestion of constructing a tunnel from Betsy’s bees to the greenhouse to ensure was a steady supply of pollinators was noted and filed in Mr Bin. I opted instead for the radical option of leaving the greenhouse door open and eventually this afternoon it paid off with a rather lackadaisical bumblebee bobbing about the blooms. He did seem to be a little on the grumpy “get me out of here” side rather than the “whoopee lets pollinate all these flowers” type of guy, but beggars can’t be choosers. I may have read the situation wrong. It has been known.
Of course we didn’t spend all our day worrying under cover, today was a day to celebrate. It was an almost perfect, a frosty start proving to be just a livener for a clear, pure “you just had to be there” kind of day. This week we have gone from hell and high water to knocking on heavens door, with little in between. So to misquote Henry Wadsworth Longfellow