I’m not sure whether the correct analogy is Alice through the looking glass or down the rabbit hole, however since serendipity kicked me into the garden blog domain I’ve become a plant voyeur. Perhaps I should re-phrase that to “virtual garden visitor” as I always feel that I’m invited into bloggers’ gardens rather than sneakily peering over the hedge.
It is more than an understatemant to say my garden is desolate in February – just a few stubborn daffodils doing their best – sorry chaps a wasted effort: a pollinator at this time of year in the Outer Hebrides no chance! So a garden world tour has been an antidote to the winter blues, a source of inspiration and dare I say envy. I have been blown over by a hillside of Crocus tommasinianus in Tennessee,  looked wistfully at snowdrops from the highlands of Scotland to west Wales and coveted a woodland carpeted with winter aconites in Pennsylvania. Alas this was mild compared with the craving induced by the hellebores.
However I was reminded this morning that it is Lent so with a wink to Old Harry I went to do penance in the polytunnel. I gave my one surviving hellebore a weak feed and gently transferred a little pollen between the flowers. Hardly the delicate fumbling of a bee but then beggards can’t be choosers.