Spring being a tough act to follow, God created June. (Al Bernstein)

And so it was June before I could say "where did spring go?" I was hoping ney, praying for a respite in the floral mania that was May.

It came.

With just a wedding a week until a giddy final fling before July. By which time I will have kissed goodbye to thirty six beautiful weddings this year. Thirty six best days of their lives, thirty six opportunities to make so many fleetingly beautiful creations - such is the glory of working with flowers.

Here today, gone tomorrow.

But let us focus on the glory of June. Summertime finally arrived, the days are long and lingering, warm evenings can muster the memory of holidays in sunnier climes, the garden is in full bloom.

I'm in heaven.

I can sit under the vine in dappled shade on the terrace, surrounded by the musky heady scent of honeysuckle and rose. I pillage with gay abandon the alchemilla mollis growing in huge swathes all around the unkempt border of the garden. The Philadelphus is triumphant this year, growing as it does, in the chicken run; offering the most luxurious canopy of shade for my hens!

As for the peonies - the Diana Doors of the flower world. Keeling over if left to grow unstaked with their excessive weight, how we love these big blousy girls and rightly so, there is no room in my world for a size six Sarah Bernhard. 

June. Truly a magnificent month in the British Isles, combine this with the hopeful expectation of a long and wistful summer - full of festivals, footy and flowers, we are an eternally optimistic nation are we not?

I leave you with a pictorial update at half time, I'm off to make this years Elderflower Cordial.

L x