Bursting

Every May there is a moment when panic starts to rise in me. The brain can't help extrapolating from the recent past, so I foresee grass that is 3 metres high and weeds winding round the chimney tops; everything moving so fast that I can't keep up. Rationally, I know that it will soon be June, we will be worrying about drought, the incredible profusion of growth that reaches its peak in these few days of mid-May madness will be over, and I will regain some confidence that I might be able to regain some control

We have an orchard mower that is basic and brutal. Given its exposed blades and considerable power, I'm surprised it passed health and safety controls - perhaps it didn't! It is like an ill-trained dog that does not always respond to the lead, lurching, pulling and failing to stop when commanded; careering around corners with teeth bared. I spent an hour or two taking down grass in the area around the hives. The bees are reasonably content to ignore me, though they don't like a strimmer around the base of the hives - I have been stung in the past but escaped unscathed today

Apple blossom is a little underwhelming this year. After last year's profusion of both flowers and fruit, I think a lot of trees are having an off year. May blossom (hawthorn) is only just getting into is stride, but it's going to be more impressive, I think - we have some towering overgrown hedges that are slowly (it's still a cold north wind) turning into white walls. I took some pleading pictures of them, but decided these strange garden colours are a bit more unusual, even a little alien - and the extra is just a bit of silliness: May madness