Another terrible thunderstorm, but my hollyhocks – thanks to their temporary shelter of ringal tied together, covered by plastic – have managed to survive – more bad weather coming though.
And the whistling thrush brood has sadly not survived. The parents are no longer visiting the nest under the gutter with mouths full of food or putting the droppings into the bird bath. Whether it was the last terrible hailstorm – I felt it was foolish to build just under the gutter – but she must be the expert! Or perhaps the red monkeys or even the crows.
The monsoon seems to have come even before we realised it was summer. Mist and off-and-on steady rain. I can scarcely see the railings of the garden let alone the opposite hill. Unfortunately, not artist enough to attempt to paint it. Sanjay plucked all the roses and filled two vases instead of letting them ‘bikhro’ in the rain.
I can see the last few poppy petals falling slowly every time the breeze shakes them.
Dripping rain all day. Everything rain sodden except the big red rose climber that thrives in the rain. Two nuthatches flying in the small cypress – saw them very clearly. And Umesh brought us the harvest of rain, wet, sweet juicy hisalu – like yellow raspberries, Devyani said.
I had to fight to get them to plant it and the kilmora (berberis) and ghingaru (pyracanthus) at the back, where I wanted only wild things to grow. Have half succeeded – I have datura (a big bush) and a lovely white wild rose creeper, and hypericum and the ‘Aprillia’ which grows as if it is wild but I don’t know if it is native.
But I say half because there are also roses and hydrangeas!