Our Garden, Part 8

Last night Ros, Charly, and I heard that it might be possible to see the Northern Lights, so around midnight the three of us went out to the end of the long pier. It was mostly cloudy, and though there was a suspiciously bright patch of cloud over the bay, and an oddish colour blue between the clouds to the north, we mostly saw the northern lights of Dundee from across the Tay. But it was not a venture wasted. Dark as it was, we could see ribbons of white and silver on the tips of the waves. Between the patches of clouds were swaths of stars, so rarely seen in summer when the days are so long. I was mesmerised by how far light can reach in the darkness: a flash of headlights sparkled on the waves from a car turning down a road across the bay, a bonfire at the base of the castle cliffs where someone was juggling fire, and even Jupiter cast a faint gleam on the sea.

This morning, after a much needed lie-in, I was grateful that it was another sunny day. After brunch I went out to work in the garden. The task today was to clear up the area around the blackcurrant bush and apple tree so that we could get to them more easily. One thing I appreciate about gardening in Scotland is that I need have no fear about getting amongst it in weeds and bushes, because I don’t have to worry about spiders that can kill me. I always forget to take before and after photos of my renovation work in the garden (renovation is the best term for it, since we inherited the garden with the house and it has suffered who knows how many years of neglect). But here you can see how our fruit area looks now.

Of course, having now made the blackcurrant bush easier to get to, I then promptly stained my hands purple harvesting a bucketful of fruit.

One of the first time I encountered blackcurrants was when I was traveling around Britain with a group from OBU, and I poured myself a glass of what I thought was grape juice one morning at breakfast. After that first misadventure, I was wary of blackcurrant flavoured things. Then I tasted blackcurrant jam, though, and it’s been a good relationship since.

With my very own blackcurrant bush, I can make my very own blackcurrant jam. Just look at that bubbly, fruity goodness. Blackcurrants, like most native British berries, are really quite tart. But add just enough sugar and it becomes a delicious, delightful jam. I was pleased to end up with four jars as the fruit of my labour. (I know, the tray behind them says cherries. But I like it.)

Of course, one must always have a piece of toast with the left over jam in the pot.

I spent the afternoon attacking the weeds around (and beneath) the courgettes and the pumpkin plants. Imagine a garden where it gets just the right amount of sun, good fertile soil, and lots of rain, and then let it be neglected for three or four weeks. Yes, I have quite a lot of work ahead of me.

In other news: C is for Courgette:

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