June began where May left off, in a long run of fabulous sunny, dry days, though often chilly nights, with breezes from the North/North/East most days.

The stream is gradually dwindling, though still running and the garden and fields are starting to look parched in places. We’ve been in water conservation mode for 10 days now, whilst eking out supplies to those plants that are most deserving. As I write this first section on 3 June, there are still no signs of significant rain forecast in the next 2 weeks.

By the middle of the month, temperatures began to rise even more, the winds kept blowing, and the sun kept shining. I began to try to work out just how many litres of water was being used in my morning and evening sessions. the estimate came in at about 600 litres for an 80-minute session twice a day, but this equated to less than 1 mm per square metre in those areas of the garden I could manage, in a roughly 5-area rotating progress.

The stalwart ground cover of London Pride is now clearly failing in places. I’ve still held off the 4,000-litre IBC tanks, for extremes, since we’re only at the beginning of June.

Deeper rooted, and meadow perennials, like knapweed, betony and cat’s ears seem to be surviving better.

With a mad hatter’s tea party held we brought out the croquet mallets only to discover that the whole of the mossy lawn had shrunk by about 1.5 cm, the ground’s dried out so much, so I needed to whack them in a lot further. Guests brought us bottles and containers of water – we’re one of the few reliant on our own spring supply.

When I walked up the hill to close up the hut doors after everyone had left, for the first time ever, I watched a very healthy-looking hedgehog ambling through the meadow grass – but well before dusk. Perhaps it too is struggling with food and liquid supplies in this weeks-long drought.

On a brighter note, we cut and brought in a swathe of hay by June 8th from the lower meadow, and our first swallow chicks had fledged a day earlier, with high hopes for a second brood.

I really didn’t think I’d ever wake to such glorious cloud-free mornings and think, “Oh no, another desiccating day”, but I’ve now reached that point.

It’s been a wonderful year for the rambling roses, and in the very depleted, and algal bloom-affected stream, the Beautiful Demoiselle damselflies also seem to be present in as large numbers as I can recall. Finally, on June 12th we had a massive thunderstorm and deluge of 22 mm in 40 minutes which gave us some much-needed respite from the drought.

The following day saw sunshine high temperatures and a lot more hay cut in the lower meadow.

From then on we had occasional light rain on several days – often just enough to save me from having to water, without really improving the parched state of the ground, even deep down.

The stream has kept flowing, but chances for hay-making have been limited, with no real 48-hour dry spells forecast. The rambling roses have been spectacular this year, particularly in the shrubbery which benefits from having the septic tank overflow/ exit drain nearby.

But with many meadow flowers setting seed really early, and other wildflowers like bramble and rosebay willowherb flowering much earlier than normal, one wonders what forage will be left for insects later in the year.

The Met Office has confirmed that the sustained dry spell, linked to winds often coming from the North and East, is in part associated with a severe heat wave affecting global sea surface temperatures in April and May. Whilst in the North Atlantic, the average temperature between 1960 and 1990 for May has been beaten by 1.5 degrees C in May 2023.

We enjoyed a bumper crop of apricots, to compensate for the poor potato harvest.

As the month has progressed the upper hay meadow has been stunning, with less leaf growth, taller grass flower stems, and wonderful diversity across the whole meadow. yellow rattle has largely subsided in dominance in 2023, with Eyebright having a very floriferous year. We must have had over 100 Meadow Brown butterflies flying in the upper meadow towards the end of the month, on sunny days.

We were fortunate to be able to cut some green hay from the upper hay meadow for two different visitors this year.

We also continued to welcome visitors to the garden, with one week seeing Australian, American and German visitors arriving – our most cosmopolitan period to date.

With the arrival of rain, cloudscapes have returned and often been spectacular, and more often witnessed since we’ve been able to enjoy nearly every meal outside, with warm temperatures and a distinct lack of midges. 

The end of June often sees a slight hiatus in the garden, but Hydrangeas are beginning to colour up, and the next wave of flowers in the magic terrace garden is beginning to pick up the visual baton.

The end-of-month PV inverter record shows how sunny a month overall it has been. I also don’t think we’ve ever had two 500 KWH months in a row as with May and June this year or reached an output in the first half of the year of over 2,000 KWH

The rainfall total for the month of just 68.9 mm was the third sub-100mm this year, and the fourth sub-110 mm this year, which explains why the ground is just so dry. Our typical annual rainfall of well over 1750 mm equates to monthly rainfall averages of above 150 mm. In addition although I don’t keep temperature records, the Met Office had recorded June 2023 as being the hottest on record, as measured by both mean, and average maximum temperatures.