The terrace bank in summer

2lightinngmapStorms galore. But the temperature didn’t dip and I don’t see any refreshing rain droplets glistening on the leaves.

Oh well. We’ve never had a typical season in the past eight years.

I become quite addicted to the lightning map website to check when the drama is about to burst over our little mountain top.

If you want to share in the vicarious thrill – http://www.lightningmaps.org/realtime?lang=en

But back to the garden. No point being glued to the screen in the early hours when there is weeding to do. 1ontoterracebank

The terrace bank above the potting shed is a wacky place right now. I seem be having a valerian moment. Centranthus rubra.

I planted white. I planted mauve. But I have a rather pleasing crimson pink. I didn’t bring it in, so it probably came from friends or was here all the time.

And with my rudimentary grasp of genetics I don’t think mauve and white would cross to create a darker colour.

It is a weed after all. You see it growing everywhere out of rock walls. But I do like my darker coloured plant.

The geums are up and over, and I’m hoping the sedums will come into their own from now on. There are some hemerocallis coming up and all sorts of santolinas, euphorbias, a few nigella flowers, and were I to actually study each bed here, I would find an archeological treasure trove of failed attempts to establish flowers and shrubs in this harsh climate.

For now you get just a glimpse. I planned to take lots of shots. But Artur had other plans. And it’s such a delight to find him in the early morning and keen to sit still on my lap.

He has taken to hiding somewhere in the deep shade during the day and I don’t track him down until about 6pm when he thinks it’s safe to emerge and demand attention.

1peoniesAnd here is the last of the peonies for this year. It is a fleeting delight. But at least this year in the stable hot weather I had blooms for ages. Well, weeks. Which beats days.

I have left Bebère’s ladder up against the potting shed so I can train the virginia creeper over the roof. (Plus the ladder weighs a tonne and I can’t shift it.)

And there is an added bonus for someone with the ladder. He has a new thrilling perch. He can twinkle up the ladder without any difficulty. But if I’m around admiring the flowers in the terrace bank and he wants to come down; I am treated to some rather plaintive shrieking.

1arturladder