Spring has sprung and the light has come back! It is such a great feeling and it has been unseasonably warm, so much so that we were able to have lunch on the terrace overlooking the sparkling sea.

The small birds have returned too with sightings of greenfinches, chaffinches and goldfinches darting about amongst the ever-present gulls, cormorants and jackdaws. The garden is already full of life with daffodils and tulips that survived the storm blasting earlier in the month, and over in the west garden, campanula and primroses have come to life. Just waiting for the poppies and the gladioli to surface.

If only pictures could convey sounds you would be able to hear the constant buzzing of the many bees that are working the rosemary fountains and hellebores on the terraces. It’s the sound of spring.

There is much work to do to get the overgrown sage shrubs under control, the veggies planted and the storm damaged walls repaired. So, in between editing my manuscript and tending the storm blasted olive tree which has shed its leaves, that’s Easter sorted.

Have a Happy Easter and come back next time for a glimpse of May’s spring glory.

Storm Eunice, and its outriders, slammed in from the Atlantic last weekend and blew its heart out for four days. At one stage when it was gusting at up to 80mph you could not stand upright. It has left the usual storm damage with collapsing walls and ‘widow-maker’ broken branches left dangling high up in the still standing trees. They will find their way to the ground in time, hopefully without causing too much damage. It is calmer now so the clearing up can start but there is still much energy on the water.  

Fortunately, most of the plants are still on their winter break but a few hardy ones are out and they are so tough, they survived the battering. How the camelias and quince flowers hung on I do not know!

And the hellebores and heathers, sheltered by the sage and rosemary shrubs, are going strong.

All hail mother nature. Just when you need a Zen Moment, she delivers. And progress on the book? I’m on the home run. Last five chapters to go – writing plans and research done. Just got to write them. Might be off the desk for Easter. In the meantime, enjoy Pancake Day and the coming Vernal Equinox on March 20th and the light coming back on March 27^th when BST begins.

There is a cloud in the sky but all is well.

There have been blizzards and storms up country but in my seaside garden this past month, it has been very dry. The bright clear skies have resulted in intensely cold nights and, unusually for here, frost in the mornings. The winter clearing work has been done and it is now a time for planning, waiting and anticipating. The days are getting longer and the spring turn is about eight weeks away, but life is returning. The daffodils are already bursting out, about eight weeks early; the corner campanula and primula have started their growth spurt; and the heathers are full of foraging bees.

The RIBs and canoes are stowed and there is nothing to do except beach walking most afternoons.

It is the Chinese New year tonight and the start of the Spring Festival so Xin Nian Kuai Le and Welcome to the Year of the Tiger.

Come back next time for news of the book – almost there.

Winter has arrived! Just when I was enjoying the late autumnal sun in my room with a view, Storm Arwen, the first of the season, slammed in and made a right mess. The northerly gale brought polar air down from the Arctic and the temperature dropped to 2 degrees last night – very unusual for the seaside.

So the party is truly over and it’s now the job to clear the debris, mulch over and leave it all to rest until next spring. These were the last blooms of the year before the storm.

The Dogwood was already shedding its leaves to expose its ruby red stems and the storm has now finished the job. The claret sedums have hung on and the storm will have done it no harm in spreading its seed heads for new blooms next year.

As the season turns to winter, it is worth taking pleasure in small things. For me, it’s the steps down to the house which have just been paved. Just look at this brilliant workmanship. It takes real skill to place and level the very heavy paving slabs before they are secured.

So while we are all confined to quarters, it’s time to make progress with my novel. The rewrite is done, edits this and next week and then the final chapters. Might just get in below 100k. It’s like doing a PhD again but I’m enjoying it this time round.

By the time you come back on New Year’s Eve, Christmas will have been and gone so have a happy one!   

The storm season has arrived and we are well into autumn with its short chilly days. We have already had a lot of rain and there is the promise of much more as the Atlantic gets into winter gear. It’s not much fun gardening in these conditions especially when the fog rolls in or the wind picks up.

But there is the odd day when we get some weak sunshine which, although low, manages to create pockets of light. A newly planted arum and the old stalwart rosemary fountain and carpet rose can still sunbathe for a while longer. And the delightful campanulas and primroses on the corner of the west garden have already burst into life, about twelve weeks early.

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The big end of season clear out has started and while the look of autumn is emerging, there have been surprises. We found these heathers buried under the summer’s prolific growth and self-seeded sedums have popped out to give some rustic colour amongst the last of the season’s trailing roses. Meanwhile, the hydrangeas have faded and are going over.

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The hedgehog and cat have gone AWOL but along the coast there have been sightings of blue fin tuna and fin whales, both off course by many miles. The excitement has been enhanced recently when dolphins were spotted too. It’s all been a distraction from the task of finishing my novel but there has been progress, including searching for a title.

Come back next time for a peak of the cleared garden and a bulb-planting progress report.

If only these pictures could convey the sweet perfumes that fill the air in my seaside garden, especially on a sunny day in the early evening down in the secret corner facing the water. The old crimson rosa and the creamy pink honeysuckle make for a potent mixed fragrance. It has been far too hot to work so lounging about in the hammock trying to read has been the order of the day. Even that is an effort.

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There has been some crazy weather of late. We have had a heatwave week and then torrential monsoon-like rain to break the high temperatures. The combination forms a growth mixture like no other. As a result, the garden is flourishing to the point of drowning the house in blooms and greenery. The gaps left by clearing out the spent spring plants have been filled with trailing geraniums and erigerons which are always greedy for more space. And of course, the ubiquitous rosemary plants have budged everything aside for their expansion.

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Meanwhile, the thirsty hydrangeas are now full of life. They are signalling where the acid and alkaline soils are with their showy pink and blue flowers.

The work on my historical novel has been a trial with much reorganising and rewriting but it is now getting there. Maybe another six weeks hard work will do it and that will be phase one over! In the meantime, there is messing about on the water to be done, and Tunnock’s to be eaten as fresh supplies have arrived this week from Yorkshire.

June is bursting out all over! It is a joyous month when everything goes pop with colour. But sadly we have now passed the summer solstice and the days will start to get shorter. It is all so fleeting so here are some moments to enjoy:

Tumbling and climbing roses along the stone river; cascades of rosemary with pops of erigerons and an arum lilly by the steps; and sisyrinchiums, geraniums, poppies, foxgloves and more erigerons lining the old wooden steps:

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Down in the secret garden, despite the storms, the rosa has been as fragrant and as crimson as ever and the dog rose is scrambling well; the agapanthuses are getting ready to burst open:

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All shades of pink are everywhere:

And down on the beach, no one is about, it is all quiet and the moment of zen is complete.

Come back next month for news of the book and enjoy a rich lemon ice cream when you can.

May’s weather has been terrible with storms rolling in from the Atlantic on regular pulses. At times, you cannot stand up as the gale force winds have been too strong. Storm debris is everywhere but the dumps of rain interspersed with warm sunny days has led to good growth conditions. Everywhere you look it is a tapestry of greens. It is the plants’ shapes and textures that give the variety and depth.

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As spring turns to summer tomorrow, there are pops of pinks and purples bursting through. Just look at these delightful aliums, erigeroons, chives, and trailing geraniums. They have given good service over the years.

And no less impressive are the old wisteria and clematises. I have no idea how they have the strength to hold on when the storms blast in, but they do.

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There is much more to come as the rose bushes are covered in buds. And there are new plants too – we are trying gladioli and anemones this year, plus more of the old troopers, agapanthuses and poppies. Will they stand up to the winds? We shall see. My room with a view is a great place to watch the storms and write my novel. Having restructured the story, it is behind schedule but half the chapters are now complete. It is a labour of love, like working in the garden.

Come back next time for news of the novel and the feast of bud bursts that will mark summer has arrived.

After six long months, it is great to be back working in the seaside garden. I ran around excitedly to take stock, fully expecting to see a lot of dead plants and weeds but I was pleasantly surprised to see it was mostly in order, and indeed flourishing. The weather has been glorious of late and the winter rains have created the conditions for growth.

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There is a real feeling of expectation as the Spring takes a hold. Buds are breaking everywhere you look and the tapestry of greens will be dotted with bright colours soon. But there are the early bud breaks to keep us going.

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Down by the old Tudor harbour, there is the feeling of expectation too – for the sea to cover the rocks and seaweed. It is a miracle of the tides that within six hours all this will be under the waves. You can see why the area was famous for smugglers and wreckers – those rocks are treacherous when hidden as they will hull a sailboat with ease. But not the little boats and canoes which are awaiting their owners to take them out for a spell on the water.

The lesson of the Virus – take pleasure in small things – is the rule of the day. So here we are with the last Tunnock’s Bar to enjoy with my sailor friends as we look at the view.

Come back next time for news of the book and the spring garden.

We are still in the City locked-up but it looks like we can return to the seaside in two weeks’ time just as the season turns into the Spring. The clocks have changed so the days are now longer and the storms have died down, mostly, so it is warmer. The garden will be shooting up ready for our return and there is a collection of salt hardy plants waiting to go to their new home. Our local friend has sent pictures to remind us of the beach walks that we have been missing:

Welcome to the followers from the Nineteenth Century groups of scholars and associates – my book set in London in 1880 will be ready for you in the late summer hopefully. In the meantime, you might be interested in this picture of our village nestled in the cliff side overlooking the bay where dolphins come for a fishy tea now and then. The hotel (now closed for redevelopment) is from the late 1800s and it was brought here from its original site a few miles away at the turn of the 20th century and rebuilt brick by brick in what was then a tiny fishing village. You have to admire the Victorians – they thought big, and they included an impressive stained glass window overlooking the grand staircase.

Easter is upon us and I’ve been saving my last few Tunnock’s bars to eat on the beach in celebration of our return. It has been a great challenge not to wolf them while we wait.

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Happy Easter to you all and come back next time for views of the spring garden by the sea . . .