Loss and gain

Looking out of the window the golden fruits of the quince tree hang heavy. 

My mouth waters at the recollection of their delicious sharpness in a lamb casserole.  Another job for the weekend, to gather them in.  Their citrus scent will fill our hallway and bring back memories of previous autumns spent in this house, over a decade now.

I’ve been thinking about the garden in early winter as a kind of tabula rasa.  Scraped back like a clean slate after the herbaceous plants have been cut back.  A time to dream and to reflect on future plans.  Just as the mind needs a blank page or canvas to express ideas or to create a painting, the garden needs a season of dormancy and rest before it, literally, springs back into life.  That endless cycle of erasure and renewal is echoed in my mind through forgetting and remembering; where I’ve planted a bulb for example or the impact of a plant at a particular time of year.  This endless process of change and unexpected surprises is one of the aspects of gardening that endlessly hooks me. 

Two autumns ago, our crab apple tree died suddenly due to honey fungus, I mourned its loss, especially the soothing autumn ritual of making the beautiful amber jelly it produced. 

However, its demise provided space for a chicken run and so we converted our old tool shed and acquired three chickens: Nugget, Chuck and Lil.  Initially I resented the damage they caused in the garden, but now I’ve become fond of their happy, busy presence, constantly digging and scraping at the gravel, usually together in a brood.  I appreciate the organic pest control service they provide and of course love their delicious creamy eggs.

As we lost the tree, we gained the chickens, not such a bad exchange in the end.  Another cycle of loss and gain in the life of the garden.