Titanarum

Everywhere and I mean everywhere leaves are falling down causing a nuisance. Like giant dandruff they drop all over pavements, cars, train tracks and roofs leaving a right mess. And it’s dangerous too. When wet they are right slippery. I don’t like them much and will be glad when they’ve all dropped and been tidied up. Some may argue that they are pretty. So what? How can looks matter when health and safety and convenience are concerned? How shallow can you get? Others may argue that falling leaves is a part of autumn and that a walk in forest in November wouldn’t be the same without them. Hello!? What about non-deciduous trees. They cause no trouble at all. And being mostly lovely and green what’s not to like? Variety is not all it’s cracked up to be, if you ask me. What we need is reliable, dependable growths to fit in with out life styles. That is not a lot to ask. And if you really must do the treading-through-knee-high-fallen-leaves-routine then let’s set aside areas where that can happen. Let’s have some traditional autumn parks. But don’t make the rest of us suffer.

What can I say? Aren’t they just amazing? Evidence in favour of the slothful, yet intensely ambitious gardener. I hardly did a thing other than planting the seeds in late August in a 5o by 5o cm bit of soil newly cleared of blighted tomates. I didn’t bother loosening the soil. All 12 seeds went in where they could find a crevice and others were pushed down by my fingers. I watered them once or twice and placed a bit of wire over them to prevent the pigeons from eating the young plants. I rarely bothered to look at them, in fact I didn’t think about them for weeks. And yet they cropped fine.

Had a sideways look at Gardener’s World last night. Chilling with a cuppa after long day at work (paper not garden), I read the Daily Mail. It is the most soothing of all reading experiences. Every article, every opinion piece, every agony aunt dilemma, is coated in familiar stereotypes which renders thinking completely unneccesary. While thus relaxed I lifted my eyes occasionally to pay attention to Monty, who’s doing a fruit cage. The trick, apparently, is to use a lightweight frame and to only cover it during the summer when the fruit is ripening to prevent the birds from getting there before you. And without a physical barrier they will. I’ve been planning a fruit cage for ages. I was intending to erect a wooden frame and clad it in chickenwire. But that is not good, says Monty, because you want to prevent fallen leaves and snow from putting pressure on the cage. I can’t afford a proper cage with properly fitted netting. I don’t think they come under £100. Wrapping up each tree and bush will have to do for another year for me.