Letters to garden makers

Monty, I listen to a secular cantata by J.S. Bach on chasing away the gloom. I had no idea gloom can belong to both the secular and religious world ! I note too that there has been another book written in denial of  God, unfortunately for the writer no amount of denial can thwart God consciousness in mankind. What other animal can make such grand plans for the future ? What other animal is so aware of its impact on the earth ? What other animal tries to solve the mysteries of its own existence? What other animal wants to understand the workings and cravings of its own flesh ? Unfortunately we are never going to be able to stop asking questions of ourselves because there is the seed of eternity planted in each of us which makes us unique among the creatures of the earth. It is a seed which will always take us beyond our biological existence. Restoration - a beautiful word. I have been restored by walking in the limestone hills near Penwyllt and Craig-y-Nos. I am moved...

Dear Monty, Gloom descends over me like clouds. Perhaps it is my fragile ego that has been damaged. Being salted with fire and having that salt in yourself is a difficult thing, it goes against all that we are in our new age of enlightenment. I sometimes have to fight with myself to be content, discontent sneaks up on me and grabs hold of my mind. Discontent is the malady of our time. I stubbornly continue to write letters to myself - I suppose in truth that is what these letters are, they are ostensibly about gardens and art - but more about trying to make sense of who I am. The world I inhabit consists of hills and valleys. The moon above and the cycle of day and night. I move only short distances during the week. I see and deal with many individuals. Like all my colleagues the week is filled with time pressures - and trying to have some empathy with those I connect with, but I struggle with that more and more. I want to explain why I fall asleep watching TV progr...

Monty, I have to apologise. Yet again I half slept through the 3rd and final episode of French Gardens. This was not because of any lack on your behalf as the presenter, but because I find gardens so relaxing - even images of them. Perhaps I dreamt it, but I'm sure I heard you throw out a challenge to British gardeners by saying that unlike the French we lack an intellectualism in our gardens. I woke up at that point, perhaps I need to watch  BBC iPlayer in case I misheard. There has been no twitter debate about it, so perhaps I was dreaming. We needed that observation to be made. I have to say however, that this debate has been going on for some time in this country, just read :  thinkingardens.co.uk I must be a peasant, a Welsh peasant at that. On the way to Herefordshire to see my granddaughter I noted the vast amounts of rubbish strewn along the roadsides of Wales. 'Proud to be Welsh' we say, but what exactly are we proud of ? If we mean the country - the...

Dear Monty, I saw a man loose his grip on life on Friday, I saw his life slip slowly from him. I watch as year on year people pass from this life. I see myself on the same journey - one for which we are never prepared. We have to find meaning to our lives - we each grasp hold of something - a cause, a passion, a belief. The French Gardens series lifted me from the gloom - perhaps it was the sun in Provence and your description of warm skinned flavoursome tomatoes. We have decided to remain here beneath the eroded and fly tipped coal tip. Now infused with your enthusiasm for shaping and creating a garden - I look forward to more pruning and planting a repetition of what grows well. I have a compulsion to draw, and since having this passion resurrected, I am opening my eyes again after what seems like a long sleep. Nursing is getting bad press at the moment, it suffers from over regulation and a focus on form filling rather than the use of common sense. I hope to leave it ...

Monty, I see you have returned to France. Your film reminded me of my visits to Paris as an art student between 1981-83. It is a city that cannot fail to make an impression with its wide open streets, avenues of trees, the river and public gardens. I particularly remember Versailles with its long canal. At that time I was not aware of having a particular interest in gardens, but the gardens at Versailles were astonishing. I saw them in early morning light, when there were not that many people there. I also remember being intrigued by the garden at the Musee Rodin. Strangely for an art student, it was not the sculpture that caught my attention but the garden with pyramid shaped topiary. Perhaps what I was responding to was the sense of order, balance and harmony. It almost feels as though I was meant to visit, and that the encounters I had which were sensually intense, were pre-ordained. There is one incident, which has great significance only to me perhaps, but which was of ...