Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, For the first time I too have had my grapes harvested by wasps - Is it related to the lack of warmth and late build up of the nests - therefore a dearth of food ? This has been a challenging year both for the garden and for humanity. The garden is still a place of sanctuary and in that I increasingly see my wealth - it is painfully pointed out to me in the 'news'. I have a home which I am paying for - I have food and clean water, I have time to think about other things, yet you can still catch me grumbling about my salary and what will be a pension taxed at 20% - I am aware of my selfishness. Have I become immune to compassion ? It does feel as though my conscience has been seared as with a hot iron. I see the horror of those fleeing from war dying trying to reach 'freedom' our freedom - my freedom. Do I want them to have a slice of it ? Is our 'way of life' something to be fenced off from others ? - I'm beginning to feel uncomforta...

Dear Monty, Here in the coal-tip garden leaves are falling. Premature falling that may be caused by disease. I wanted to halt them - a bit like Canute holding back the tide. The rain could make my spirit droop like the leaves, but I find myself enjoying the rain the drooping and falling. Perhaps I have come to terms with my ego - perhaps a garden is more than a collection of plants. There are lessons to be learnt in falling.

Dear Monty, Why do so many of us find peace within our gardens ? Does peace reside there or in our heads ? Is there something within us human beings which responds to the natural biological world outside of knowledge? A kind of chord - a note - a harmonic, like a faint memory of something ancient and beyond words. Yesterday there was a kind of dance going on, a ballet of movement and light. A red admiral swirled in and out of the hydrangea flowers. Hover flies of different sizes and colours performed a zig zag tango tussle over the large umbels of the purple stemmed giant hogweed. I was sitting on the red terrace looking across the garden toward the poplar tree growing in the valley below us. The poplar has a unique dance of its own - the leaves shimmer almost in slow motion - quite unlike any of the surrounding native trees. The red terrace I am content - even in this strange garden with all of its poor horticulture and disease problems. Peace despite noise -...

Dear Monty, Having seen you protect your newly planted cabbages from cabbage white butterflies - it made me realise that I haven't seen many this year. Despite warmth yesterday - a brief interlude with blue sky and a light wind there was a dearth of butterflies in the coal tip garden. There were honey bees, bumble bees, wasps, hover flies, a gangly legged wasp, one hedge brown, one speckled wood and a common blue - that is all. Oh and a frog sheltering in the shady hosta and a silent peregrine falcon swooping overhead. What has happened to all the insects ? What has happened to all the aphids this year ? Is it just me that is missing them ? I have seen no ladybirds or ladybird larvae - because there have been so few aphids - was it the birds that have snaffled them ? I worry about the lack of insect numbers. We walked through a wild meadow full of meadow cranesbill and meadowsweet with the purple haze of knapweed in the grasses and yet there were one or two meadow br...

Dear Monty, An ode to Owl O owl o gwdy hw You have returned You have brightened a dull day You have flown back to me. How did I not see you abandoned there in the long grass ? Your flight was but a hundred yards From arms you slipped Or were dropped. Perhaps the queen of the night disturbed you Gwdy hw Now I am uplifted As are you Perched I perch too. Paul