Wandering Through The Land Of Nod.

A short post in which I am overwhelmed by the scent of lavender and saddened by plants being forced prematurely into autumn at the end of a short, harsh summer.

When I opened the front door, I breathed in the gorgeously overwhelming scent which hit me.   The sweet smell of lavender filled the air and wrapped itself around the house.  It was heady and delicious, but this wasn’t the scent of hope which comes with spring and early summer.  This was the last, desperate burst of energy, released by garden shears in a parched, thirsty flower bed.

My husband had cut down the lavender which from May onwards had been full of vibrant colour and perfume and had been loud and lively with hundreds of bees.  The lavender bed sits underneath the living room window and fills our sitting place with summer. 

It lasted well, along with sun loving marigolds, asters and petunias.  It did better than roses, fuchsias and hydrangea, but still, by early August it was past its best.  The vivid colours had faded to grey, the scent became elusive and the bees disappeared.

Two weeks before the English summer bank holiday, our beautiful lavender had done its work.  It could do no more and so it was chopped down and taken to fragrance the compost bin at the local recycling plant.  In the garden, there were no bees left to disturb and ladybirds had stayed away.

Chopping down the lavender to make way for next year’s new growth is normally a late September task, when bees have finally given up trying to get every last drop of nectar possible, but in 2026 autumn has arrived for our plants before we are ready, before the temperature has cooled down and before rain has moistened the ground.

It is still hot, dry summer, but already there are lines of golden leaved trees, masses of brittle, brown ferns and plenty of berries on show as desperate plants give themselves the best chance of reproducing. Fallen leaves crunch underfoot.

How different this is from 2025, which had been so wet that the trees stayed green into November!

What differences have you noticed in your gardens, parks, meadows and hedgerows?

In September, I’ll share a few more memories, mainly of a clerical nature.

In the meantime, have a good end of August.

Wander well,

Mandy.

Things I love:

• Bees buzzing in lavender.
• The cooling down of autumn.
• Autumn colours.

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