Love or hate them cactus are amazing!
My gran was an enthusiastic grower and appreciator of cactus and I wish I knew what happened to her wonderful collection when she died.
My dad has his theory on my Gran’s love for these spiked green wonders and it is something along the lines of her being in good company……
I don’t mind admitting that I LOVE a cactus.
I have them (they are practically the only green thing that I have indoors) in my home.
I wonder what it really does say about me and my gran, then?
I’m not bothered about succulents (pah!! pretenders!!), I love the full blown, nasty, needle covered cactus that is impossible to repot and will remind you (in no uncertain terms) what they are capable of if you forget yourself and get too close.
They are the perfect architectural designer’s accessory and even if they are hugely uncool at the moment, this designer loves them.
I love them!!
I love them for their architectural grace and interesting shapes.
I love them for their unforgiving ways (hmmm? some might say…….).
I love them because they work perfectly in our understated london home which is mostly white with grey furniture and walnut floors that is only coloured by the contents of our shelves AND a carefully placed cactus here and there.
They are neat and contained so they also fit in with my deep love of order and tidiness.
It is in complete contrast, I have to say, to the outside which is a mix up of colour (not too much), green, wild stuff, compost and things not necessarily in the right place (rhubarb).
Every time I look at one of my little beauties, my gran comes to mind.
What could be wrong with any of that?
Called peewits in the NE (& possibly elsewhere too) because of the sound they make, they are endlessly busy beauties that grace our skies with their amazing acrobatics.
They are graceful, athletic, full of character and have such lovely markings.
Their nesting habitat is easily ruined as they tend to nest in ground scrapes on flat farmland that is invariably ploughed, planted up and later harvested.
They are fierce defenders of their nest, eggs and youngsters; feigning a damaged wing if there is anyone or anything too close to the product of all their hard work and courtship.
I never get sick of watch and listening to them. I could do it for hours.
We are lucky enough to see Roe Deer where we walk at the weekends and although they become harder to see when the crops get up, there is always a sign that they are about.
We see slots in the mud, beds of flattened grass where they have slept at night, nibbles on crops but also damage to tree bark where they have been having a feast.
It is inevitable and one of their many wild habits although it is not very popular with anyone growing saplings.
I like seeing the secret signs that the deer are about and know that as long as the damage is not extensive the saplings will survive.
A deer damaged sapling will never grow to be the perfect specimen but this is nature and this is what happens – good, bad and indifferent.