Garden Fantasy

When my husband was alive, the garden was a wondrous place. The lawn was well maintained, he pruned the trees, shrubs, roses at the right time. He planted the spuds in March and cabbage, onions, leeks, beetroot, garlic, white turnip etc were in abundance in the summer. He did espalier pears, apples on our back wall. Lavender, herbs and in the greenhouse tomatoes and grapes. We had the rhubarb patch and the pond with the lilies. Everything organic and growing in some kind of harmony .

Then he died in 2015 and the garden went into disarray . I hadn’t a clue what to do. My neighbours helped me cut the grass but everything else retreated into the wild place. And the garden itself directed its future without guidance or structure.

So I told it that it was free to determine its own future and a committee came together to do what committees do. Poppy was chairperson, rosemary and thyme were joint secretaries, herb was treasurer, Rose was elected to marketing, Daisy admin manager and everyone was happy with this including me.

So according to the season the garden grows in chaotic abundance. It sleeps in winter, it wakes in spring, it manifests in summer and it prepares in autumn. It’s still a delightful place and my husband (the Head Gardener) would not be unhappy with it.

But I must remark on the echiums that have somehow gatecrashed the party, they bring butterflies and bees and they impose a certain Italian look on the garden. But they are usurpers and have not met the approval of the committee.

Watch this space.

By the way the gnomes are my contribution to the garden. I am a city girl and I love kitsch