Quaking grass

This is Briza Maxima, greater quaking grass. It came with us from Durham as a stowaway in pots, and in the past couple of years it has seeded prolifically and popped up in all the pots on the deck as well as in all kinds of cracks and crevices. I think it's extremely pretty: as the name suggests, the seeds quiver or quake delicately in the breeze on their fine, arched stems. It also catches the light beautifully and I like the precision of the seeds' shape and the pinkish brown tips. I scrounged some of it from my sister-in-law and brother's garden perhaps fifteen years ago, and was warned that it would self seed everywhere. I enjoy its generosity, though I've been pulling a lot of it up this week. I currently have some in a jug of flowers on the table, and have put some to dry for winter use, in vases and perhaps to photograph on the light box.

After our usual Saturday brunch (fresh farm eggs, poached, with P's excellent home-made crumpets), J wanted to watch the new Avatar film in the sitting room, to enjoy the visually stunning effects on a larger screen. It's over three hours long, so this gave me a good window in which to move the last three Golden Cherry tomato plants into their large pots and then make the year's first batch of elderflower cordial, having picked a big bowl of flower heads from trees around the garden and set them to steep yesterday. It's the start of a season of preserving, satisfying and a little daunting.