Letters to garden makers

The coal tip above the house  Dear reader, I agree with Tim Richardson's statement in an informative discussion about his new book on Sissinghurst * that on the whole, the 'garden world ' is mostly posh. The most celebrated and written about gardens are large gardens. Large gardens are by definition owned by those who can afford land, and even those that are smaller - perhaps of a few acres are generally owned by those of a middle income. The coal tip garden I admit from the outset that I am jealous of those who have land. This attitude is a rotten one, because when I stay there I lose sight of what extraordinary beauty can be found in the smallest and even scruffiest places like my small garden below a coal tip. There are some amazing small garden spaces : allotments, balconies, back lanes etc. Making a garden no matter who or where you are is a beautiful thing to do, and that is what is important. For the sheer joy and enthusiasm of making a garden see  @myrealgarden on

  Dear all, Because of all the turmoil including the weather and erratic issues including a bad back- I have neglected the garden this year. I have allowed the space to soften. The cloistered feel remains, but it is wilder. I have let areas of grass grow longer and the mixed perenial 'border' has become less defined. I like the contrast between the wild and controlled areas. A byproduct - or unintended consequence has been the appearance of grasshoppers, many more than I have ever seen here before. Their appearance brings real felt joy - an inward leap because it reminds me of the abundance of these insects in my childhood of the late 60's early 70's. Small changes really can make a difference. It is an emotional thing to recognise how denuded our lives have become as a result of our search for perfection. For children growing up now, they will not know that normal once used to be a multitude of insects hopping, flying and crawling about our gardens and landscapes. I ho

Dear reader, It has been a very long time since I last wrote to you. There has to be something to say before I can say it. Sometimes I say too much about too little. I suppose I have to brood, to allow what seems right at this point in time to build up before it can break - like the thunder storm now breaking in the warm dense air hanging over the garden. I watch a buzzard circle high into the purple tinged clouds - and notice a pair of swifts - the first I've seen. As I watch them my heart lifts with them in the silent air, before the first crack of thunder and heavy raindrops send me indoors. Being in close proximity to the garden for a more prolonged period - allows us the privilage of seeing growth in much more detail. I have been able to make more adjustments this year and it has given me a great deal of satisfaction. I really do appreciate having this space and feel for those who don't have access to a garden.   The thunder and its gradual build up is like a metaphor for