Let your imagination rule your pocket

Here’s a bit of Keats for you: “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.”  He was, I suspect, referring to England or Ireland in the autumn, or as our American cousins would have it, ‘the fall.’  In the temperate world of the northern hemisphere October/ November is the “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” and I am for a little time in England once more, and I’ve had enough already. There are certainly mists, and snow is forecast any day now, and damn it, would you believe the supermarkets are full of avocado pears, coconuts, oranges, lemons, mangoes and bananas − shops full of the tropical sunshine that I long for. I know that most of you are sitting having breakfast in the warmth of a Guyana morning. In the garden your eyes will be assailed by the knockout colours of the bougainvillea and the enchanting display of all the other gorgeous plants you can (and ought to) have in your borders − Hibiscus, Ixora of many colours, Mussaenda and Jasmine.

Here in what is the southern-most part of Yorkshire it is the Michaelmas daisy season. Now you all know what Michaelmas daisies are. Plenty in the public parks and gardens, and maybe even in your own garden. To me it is one of the surprises in our beautiful country. It is a plant of the temperate world introduced − heaven knows how − many decades ago and loving every minute of the climate, as I do.

This family is much larger than we in Guyana may realise. Plants range from just a few inches in height to five or six feet high, and in colours from white through the entire range of the blue part of the spectrum. After the orgy of strident colours found in the English summer flower beds and borders, there is this wonderful contrast between the present glorious autumn colours of the trees, and the cool misty blues of the asters (Michaelmas daisies) combined with the graceful stems of the ornamental grasses, as this season slowly gives way to the harsh reality of an English winter. In Guyana our own small Michaelmas daisy (I think we can claim it as our own now) is one of a minority of plants − those with blue flowers. It is not likely that the taller varieties would survive. They have too much foliage to be exposed to the sun we have, although the Botanic Garden in Trinidad did sport a taller one about two feet tall some years ago. Small plants lose less water.

One thing we can grow and which I am determined to get into my garden, is the giant onion, which rejoices in the name Allium aflatunense ‘Purple Sensation.’ It will flower through the summer months (May, June July) and ought to make a splendid backdrop in a mixed border. I am told that they seed easily (but are not invasive) and can be left undisturbed for a long time.
That is until you decide that they want reducing in quantity.

There does seem to have been a definite decline in the number of gardeners who grow vegetables in Guyana due to the vast range and relative cheapness of them in the markets. The decline has been due also to an increase in the number of girls and boys who prefer to take up employment as soon as they finish school, and whose parents prefer it and encourage it in view of the economic situation and the need to maximize the amount of money going into the home.

I do think, however, that there is a great deal to be said for trying to grow at least a small amount of the vegetables you enjoy eating. In spite of the cost, and lack of space, there is nothing quite like the taste of fresh vegetables picked from your own garden, and nothing quite like the feeling of having grown them yourself. Give it a go. For once let your imagination rule your pocket.