Summer Haze

Paula O'Hara
Jul 13
3 min read

Updated: Jul 15

It's mid-July. We are now past the lightest point of the year, and the great surge of activity and growth in the countryside has slowed. It's the 12th of July, mid-morning, and the heat of the day is rising. I've retreated to the shade with my notebook and tea to write. It's hard to do much gardening without withering, so I thought this would be the perfect time for a letter from the garden.

I can hear distant drums from across the river and the sound of a plane flying low over the lough, readying to land, but apart from that, all is quiet. The boys have headed off to play golf, and Niamh is with her friends. I'm happy to enjoy the peace and quiet here. There's a cool breeze as I write, which I'm thankful for as it's been incredibly warm and dry with no sign of rain for the foreseeable week.

The birds are quiet, focused on nurturing their offspring, except for the house martins who communicate constantly with each other, chittering as they dart in and out of the eaves with beaks filled for their hungry chicks. There was a particularly noisy episode recently, and I've noticed one of their nests has house sparrows in it this year. I guess they took advantage of a well-made nesting site, much to the annoyance of the hardworking builders.

Every now and then I spot small birds from the corner of my eye, quietly darting in and out of the flowerbeds to feed on aphids. Being this close to the river, larvae have recently hatched and there is a feast of sedges, nymphs, and midges at the minute. I'm not too fond of the flies out here, (especially when you leave a light on and a window open all night), but without them we wouldn't have all these creatures who come to feed. The large brown hawker dragonflies have arrived in the garden to feast, flashing bronze and amber in the sun as they feed on the wing. If the year had a creature of the month, I would say July is the month of the dragonfly here. They are a beautiful sight, nature's pest control, and a sign of a healthy ecosystem.

The poppies are fading fast now, and the first flush of the roses is over, but more flowers arrive to replace them. With the ripening of the tomatoes, the soft pastel tones of early summer are giving way to hotter colours now as dahlias, crocosmia, helenium, echinacea, rudbeckia, and nasturtiums are coming into their own amongst grasses turning golden. I always try to choose a gently coloured variety from the seed catalogs, but sometimes nature has its own ideas, and burnt oranges and ochre colours win out. In fairness, these plants seem to do better with the dry hot spells. Nepeta continues to flower, attracting both bees and butterflies. I will cut parts of it back now to encourage flowering, and it will keep going for many weeks. It's definitely the one plant every garden should have for being so hardworking and wildlife-friendly. Good varieties are Walker's Low for the front of the border and Six Hills Giant if you want more height. I've a south-facing garden, and it's happy here in the sun.

The sweetpea wants to go to seed now, but I keep cutting it, holding onto summer and that joyous scent for as long as possible. Behind the garden in the marshes, plumes of meadowsweet rise up out of the rushes, the perfect backdrop bringing the delicious scent of almonds on the breeze.

Of course, the bindweed creeps in also, and it's a constant battle, but for now, I will wait and savour this moment in the season when all the sowing, mulching, and planting is done and the garden offers up its bounty, when the beds are humming with pollinators and vase after vase of blooms can be cut for the house.