A Summer evening, it’s the only time when our balcony garden gets any direct sunlight at all, and it’s noticeable the impact those fleeting hours of direct light and warmth have on the edible plants we’re trying to grow. The thyme, for instance, is growing well only in that corner of the pot that see’s direct sun. Evening is the time too when the first of the strawberry crop is gaining a pink blush of colour. The Boys are eying them hungrily wondering how long it’ll be before they can sample our micro-crop.
The edible nasturtiums and calendula are locked in a battle for the light with the nasturtiums umbrella-like almost circular leaves in ascendency and casting the slower growing calendula into shadow.
It’s not much of a garden, actually just a line of pots along the balcony edge, my first tentative foray into greening our tiny outdoor pocket of space, but it brings a disproportionate pleasure that’s both grounding and unfailingly positive.
It’s a place of drama too, as bumbling bees for example, make an erm ‘beeline’ for the glazed roof that covers the balcony, only to become enmeshed in the web(s) of a ‘king’ spider who’s getting fat on their untimely end. Many’s the time I’ve attempted to ‘buck nature’ and swept a bee from the spider’s (I always think of the spider as ‘he’) webby snare only to see it circle in mid-air and return to the self same spot. It would seem that bumble bees are dogged, and just a little suicidal. I’d love to know what tempts them to fly five floors into the air, as they balcony is predominately green with few showy flowers to tempt them from ground-level.
Here’s what the balcony looks like this evening: