A welcome return to the basics

This year is a year of simple, straightforward, wholesome gardening and enjoyment. I get to revel in the fundamentals: Pottering, weeding, deadheading, supporting, clipping, mulching, sowing...

For us gardeners, shivering above 50° north, the new garden season is fast approaching. I can hear its footfall, softly tiptoeing up the garden path. The shadow line, cast by the house and hill above us, is ever so slowly creeping up the Flower Garden, back towards the north-facing Terrace. Cyclamen and snowdrops are now in bloom, keeping the elegant and unwavering hellebores in good company. Any moment now, I will hear that most heart-warming of spring garden sounds… the heavy buzzing drone of an emerging queen bee.

Usually, even by this early stage, my mind would be ruminating over various ‘projects’ aligning themselves through the coming year. But not this year. This year, the first for a very long time, I have nothing planned. Nothing! No rough sketches. No list. No makeovers. No renovations. No massive change requiring a herculean effort. No eye-waveringly expensive builds. This year, I get to enjoy all my hard labours.

I can wander up and down my new gravel path. I can water my hostas on their new stage: the even better, even bigger, even sturdier, even heavier “Shady Table”. The water features are built and pumps installed, accompanying me with their gentle babble and shimmering reflections.

Now that the specimens Acers have settled into their newly renovated Victorian boilers, they’re ready to astonish me as the sunlight glows through their fine filigree garnet leaves. They do look very stately, raised up on their rather posh Catchpole & Rye ‘ball and claw’ cast feet. I can open the kitchen window and breathe in the joyful fragrance of skimmias from the rarely seen Kitchen Courtyard, now home to their newly planted, vintage galvanised water tank.

This year is a year of simple, straightforward, wholesome gardening and enjoyment. I get to revel in the fundamentals: Pottering, weeding, deadheading, supporting, clipping, mulching, composting, sowing and growing.

Rejoicing in the simple everyday. Gawping at the very first Reticulate Iris to amaze me with its ultra-intense sapphire blue. Clouds of sweet fragrance drifting from hundreds of Narcissus in the Courtyard, bringing a smile with each and every passing by. The heavenly scent of roses as their rich perfume fills the driveway and rises to greet me on the Terrace. Sitting down, on one of the old Lutyens benches, cold glass of G&T in hand, breathing the sweet air of summer

That first saccharine sweat pea. The crisp metallic snap of sharp blades. The smell of twine. The sound of seeds rustling and rattling in their packets. The pungent waft of a freshly opened bag of seed sowing compost. Marvelling at a cluster of ladybirds nestled in a corner, basking in the warm spring sunshine. The harmonies of countless flying pollinators feasting in the Flower Garden. The battle with the Potting Shed door and the frequent mutterings of “I should really fix this!”

Yes, I’ll admit my spectacles have a rather rosey tint, but what sights, sounds, and smells await us in our own gardens.

I only have two tasks to consider this year. By my recent standards, they are mere trivialities. I have one rose arch to install and plant. I have one small Cutting Garden to rearrange. That is it.

Yes, I could contemplate the installation of a new fence, or even a new greenhouse, but why spoil a perfectly relaxing year in the garden? If I cared to, I may paint the potting shed and Kitchen Garden raised beds. But there is no schedule. No timeline. No weight of expectancy. I think my Instagram followers may find this year exceedingly dull. No great transformation awaits them this year. Just post after post of “Saw this today. How beautiful!”

Recently, I have had cause to pause and, with it, a brief moment of subtle enlightenment. I have realised that I was carrying a weight. A weight of expectancy. Quite unnecessarily too. Even though my social media following is fairly modest, I’ve been spending more and more time thinking about what my followers want. What would they like to see. What would they like to know? What would entertain them? Isn’t that odd?

My instagram began as a simple journal, just so my friends and family, scattered far and wide around this globe, could see the progress of our humble cottage renovation and garden overhaul. Now, it occupies far too much of my waking mind. So this year is also about reigning in the ‘commitment to posting’, or at least the frequency. Quality over quantity. Maybe a weekly update to coincide with my Publication here on Substack?

I think, if I could stroll back in time, just before Covid, maybe one or two years B.C., I would remind myself of this:

Garden for you. Garden because it makes you happy. Not for visitors. Not for the socials. Find your joy. Cherish the sun on your face. Celebrate the first bud burst, the first bloom, the first bee and butterfly. Savour the smell of soil and feel of compost. Delight in the delicate touch of those first petals of spring. Harken to bird song. Stare at the passing clouds and marvel at how blue the sky is. Oh, and just once in a while, if it’s not too much bother, walk up the hill and watch the sun setting!

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Coming up…

We’re kicking off a brand new, much-anticipated series… “Making the no-dig Flower Garden” It will probably be a 3-4 parter covering source inspiration, site assessment, needs and requirements, choosing the right style, planting on a budget, design, going no-dig, and the planting list.