Welcome to my Perching Post.

Joyful Midsummer in the Garden

It always seems a bit strange that we celebrate midsummer only two days after the summer solstice. This year feels particularly odd as summer has been a long time arriving in the northern hemisphere – only now are the winter woollies being put away and sunny summery clothes take centre stage.

Children on beach in summer clothing — *Summer arrives at last*

The days are at their longest, the sun feels welcomingly warm and gardens that were held back by spring chill are now bursting into life as though making up for lost time.

The garden gets going... — *Summer blooms*

Before the change from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar in 1752 St Barnabas Day fell close to midsummer and there’s piece of folklore that goes like this:

Barnaby bright, Barnaby bright
	The longest day and the shortest night.
	When St Barnabas smiles both night and day,
	Poor ragged robin blooms in the hay.

Ragged robin is a wild flower of the hay meadows and haymaking is at its peak at this time of the year. Good weather is essential to ensure the hay is harvested in peak condition and stored dry for winter fodder. St Barnabas day marks the first day of haymaking – the old country saying was, ‘On the day of St Barnabas, put the scythe to the grass.’

A field with hay gathered in — *Hay making gets under way*

The heat from the midsummer sun is thought to imbue herbs with their healing qualities so this is the day when they are gathered at dawn and then put to dry for use in simple herbal remedies or hung at doors and windows to ward off harmful spirits.

Gathering herbs at dawn — *Gathering herbs*

St John’s Day falls on 24th June and celebrates midsummer. There is an old belief that, ‘If the cuckoo sings after St John, the harvest will be late.’

The cuckoo starts to sing in April — *A cuckoo – the traditional herald of summer*

Usually the cuckoo arrives in April, starts singing in the middle of the month and stops in late June – so there appears to be a grain of truth in the observation that if the cuckoo is still singing after midsummer then the season is certainly late and the harvest will be late too – potentially serious if it coincides with the less reliable weather of early autumn.

Take Time while Time doth Last

It’s a common complaint that comes with age – time seems to speed up and the days, months and years pass with alarming rapidity. The sixteenth century composer John Farmer, a key figure in the English Madrigal School set to music these words:

Take time, while time doth last
Mark how fair fadeth fast
Beware if envy reign:
Take heed of proud disdain;
Hold fast, now in thy youth
Regard thy vowed truth;
Lest when thou waxeth old
Friends fail and love grow cold

The verse makes us aware of the dangers of taking time for granted, of continually chasing after the next exciting thing without appreciating what is happening in the present. Farmer expresses what has become a modern cry – we all need to slow down and enjoy the present moment.

An egg timer reminds us that time is always chasing us — *Time always seems to be chasing us…*

For life to function effectively we have had to find ways of measuring time. In his article ‘The Benefits of Taking Your Time’ Barry Boyce writes:

‘The clock, the calendar, the days of the week—it’s easy to forget that these are all human inventions. It’s also very hard to imagine a world without them, which is clearly why they were invented and why they’ve served the world so well. It certainly makes it easier to make an appointment to meet up for coffee in two weeks.’

An alarm clock keeps us on time — *Make time work rather than dictate*

But we also need to to manage time effectively…otherwise we can become overwhelmed.

Too many demands on time can lead to burn-out. — *The danger that time can overwhelm us…*

The COVID-19 pandemic threw our regular routines into chaos. But suddenly we were treating time differently. Some found more time for leisure – an isolated walk in the fresh air; time to bake a loaf of sourdough bread; time to decorate a room or read a book…

With extra time during lockdown many folk wee able to bake their own bread. — *Baking the perfect loaf takes time.*

Others found increased pressure – working from home in cramped conditions; the lack of social interaction; challenges of simply getting the groceries or caring for loved ones. Time played strange tricks on what had become straightforward routines and schedules. With the end of lockdown some suffered from burnout whilst others found difficulty adjusting to a return to work.

The COVID19 lock-down brought confusion and stress to many. — *Lock-down caused a lot of mental anguish*

Midwife Nancy Bardacke, in her work with expectant couples, introduced them to the idea of ‘horticultural time’ which follows nature’s clocks: all the different timescales that govern the natural world. Keen gardeners will be familiar with this. You cannot will a plant to grow faster. It grows at the rate it grows. I have a paeony growing in my garden that has not flowered in the fifteen years since it was first planted. Every year I threaten to dig it up. But then – oh joy! This spring it shows signs of displaying one glorious, fragrant bloom.

A paeony flowers after a long wait. — *After fifteen years this paeony bloomed at last!*

There are stories of thatched cottages which, when the thatch is replaced, shed seeds that have lain dormant for years. Scattered into the earth at last it’s as though they are kick-started into growth. Completely unexpected plants germinate, flourish and produce an abundance of unexpected blooms. The seeds provide fruit when they’re ready.

Long-dormant seeds provide flowers eventually... — *Patience rewarded with unexpected blooms*

It’s similar with babies: They come when they’re ready. ‘And just the same,’ Nancy comments, ‘once the baby is born, it will wreak havoc with clock time. It’s hungry when it’s hungry. It’s sleepy when it’s sleepy.’ New parents soon learn that they need to accept and go along with the rhythms of horticultural time. Ultimately it serves both parents and baby well.

Babies have their own timescale... — *Sleeping baby: relieved parent*

So we need to be careful how we handle time. We cannot stop the clock but we can learn to manage our time, to enjoy it and to benefit from the unexpected benefits it can bestow.

Time managed well can bring peace, prosperity and happiness. — *Happy Hour!*

The Light of Spring

As spring really (honestly – it’s truly here!) gets underway we can take time to see how the light has shifted since mid-winter. Suddenly it seems clearer, more vibrant. Colours have greater depth – they shine through and bring a sense of joy and hope. The hedgerows are full of fresh, young green leaf and often foam with the frothy white blossom of hawthorn.

A brilliant hedge of hawthorn against an azure sky — *Spring light brings sharper focus and brighter colours*

Primroses peep and pose – shyly and boldly. It seems that nothing can restrain their exuberance once they really get going.

The first primroses of spring demand attention — *Peeping or posing – primroses make a bold show*

The garden sees a sudden spurt in growth – the grass grows apace and shrubs that seemed dormant wake up and display fresh buds and the promise of glorious blooms. Bees and insects buzz and the birds are frantic with the urgent business of nest-building and gathering food for their young.

Fledglings demand food — *Hungry mouths* *clamour to be fed*

Step into the fresh air first thing in the morning and the air is fragrant with the green smell of grass and new foliage. As the sun gently warms trees, plants and flowers that fragrance becomes heady with sweet perfume.

Fragrance-filled air speaks of the joy of spring — *The heady fragrance of spring flowers tuns heads with joy…*

A walk in the countryside delivers familiar sights in all the brilliance of spring illumination. Choose a walk by sea or lake and it reveals water in all its moods. The scene sparkles in early morning light and then goes on shifting and changing as the day wears on. Restless and in constant motion the water fidgets and changes; an ever-transforming kaleidoscope of shade, colour and mood.

Words from Alfred, Lord Tennyson describe it thus:

The splendour falls on castle walls
            And snowy summits old in story ;
        The long light shakes across the lakes,
            And the wild cataract leaps in glory.

A wild waterfall cascades and tumbles in exuberance — *A cataract tumbles and leaps – almost for sheer joy*

In reaction, our hearts, too, leap in glory as spring takes a firm hold; the winter seems far behind.