Writing about delight. A delight in writing.
Monday 2nd March. March. Finally it is March. I spy the white of the buds on the honesty. There are violets in the grass. On the bank at the top of the lane there is a patch of black widow irises. The turn of the month seems to mark the start of something new. No change in the rain though.
I was struck by something that Wolves Lane Flower Company wrote on their instagram this week, under a stunning bucket of delicate blue flowers:
Forget-Me-Not is just a weed to most gardeners but one of our absolute favourite spring flowers. The old boys at our allotment think we’re bonkers when they see us thinning out the clumps. “Why don’t you dig those up?” They ask. A couple of weeks ago we gave a talk at Google HQ in London all about growing & enjoying your own flowers at home. We didn’t start with a run down of the best seeds to sow right now or perennial plugs to purchase but with a look around. If you’ve already got a garden / patio / somewhere you’re allowed to forage chances are something beautiful is already growing there. It might not be a David Austin rose or Coral Charm peony it could be something as commonplace and delicate as our friend the Forget-Me-Not. If we only consider the big hitters as beautiful and valuable in the natural world then surely we’ll all miss out on tiny & weedy heroes. This season alongside your narcissi and tulips cut a few Forget-Me-Nots, some annual rocket & Shepherd’s Purse and see how much joy they bring you 🌱
The flowers I see most every day are some salad leaves I let go to seed. Rocket is particularly beautiful. Inspired by Wolves Lane Flower Company, I will admire it and delight in it. I may even put it in a glass on my kitchen table.
[Also see their most recent post on International Women’s Day. Well said.]
Tuesday 3rd March. I attend my first parish council meeting and make the case for the Corfe Village: Green Initiative. I have a policy of never preparing and never rehearsing for anything, so the speech was somewhat spontaneous. But it would take a brave person to argue with the need for making our communities more resilient and more sustainable. Sharing food and skills, reducing travel and waste. I come home and plant double the amounts of tomatoes for giving away.
Wednesday 4th March. Talking of food, a dinner from the kitchen garden. The purple sprouting broccoli has not been prolific but it is delicious. Supplemented by the immortal chard and the first pickings from a flourishing bed of Russian red kale.
Friday 6th March. Prompted by the pleasure of sharpening an eyeliner pencil, I post on instagram about the little things. The joy of filling up the car the night before. I loathe the idea of ‘adulting’, but somehow there are tiny little things that one can do that make life a little sweeter. (Lucy Brazier pointed out that just filling up the car when the fuel gauge isn’t on the red is the epitome of smugness, but also that JB Priestley’s essay Delight is wonderful and deserves reviving.) The comments ranged far and wide, but seemed to be one of two things: gifts to one’s future self; and being in the moment. Paradoxically.
Taking the time to do something now that will be appreciated tomorrow. Buying a replacement something before the last one has run out. Filling the tea caddy before it is empty. Putting the water in the kettle the night before. Loo roll was mentioned more than once. A hairbrush in the glove box to arrive anywhere with style (even the school run). Enough clean pants on a Sunday night to last all week.
The other thing is noticing the moment. Stopping and watching bumble bees. This whole newsletter is designed as an exercise in noticing for me. I am guilty of going too fast, pushing everything too hard. Noticing something and recording it each and every day grounds me. I take delight because of the noticing.
Setters do not need to do this; they delight in everything. Especially things they are not meant to be doing.
