The raspberries are climbing. The strawberries sprawling with characteristic ambition. The gooseberries quietly swelling.
May is the garden’s most demanding month. Everything that was dormant has decided, simultaneously, that now is the moment. The runner beans need stringing. The sweet peas need pinching out. The nigella has seeded itself into every crevice and must be negotiated with rather than controlled.
I have stopped trying to be systematic about it. The garden in May does not reward systems. It rewards presence — the willingness to walk slowly, look closely, and respond to what you find rather than what you planned.
This morning I stood for twenty minutes watching a bumblebee work its way through the alliums. I had intended to stake the dahlias. The dahlias will wait. The bee was more interesting.
This, I think, is what the garden is actually for.