My village, Wadhurst in East Sussex, has just had its charity Open Gardens weekend and – probably to quote a hundred local newspaper reports on similar events this month, ‘the rain held off’ – just.
The lack of precipitation was indeed a mercy afer last year’s wash out – but for those of us who bravely opened our gates it was a bit sad that the flat, grey afternoon sky and only-just-shirt-sleeve temperatures hardly did our beloved gardens justice – so heavenly as they are, empty of all but us and the birds, particularly in the soft light and summer warmth at dusk and dawn.
Of course an event like this just doesn’t happen without considerable effort.
Posted by Helen 
I have always moaned about 
The thing I love about my gardens in May is the almost overwhelming green-ness and lushness of everything. In stuffed gardens like mine, though, it can become almost too much. 
Last week saw me swanning up the M1 with my roof down (glorious weather shone upon us for a whole week) to stay overnight at 
Confined to my desk by wet weather, I realise that the planting around my pond is the most important in my whole garden because I sit and look at it all the time I am ‘working’. Every leaf matters.
Apart from the last few of last season’s leeks, that’s about all there is on the allotment at the moment. Evil cold wind, unpredictable weather, a week ‘off sick’ and another one recuperating have meant that I’ve done little since I installed my new raised beds.
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