Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, It's rare that I post 2 letters to you on one weekend, but having heard a piece of music entitled 'The Lonely Particle' on Radio 3 yesterday morning - it hit a spot within me which produced a series of thoughts - stream of consciousness if you like. I share this not because it is a great or clever piece of writing but because it is the only way I know how to  release it from within. We are all built of particles, elements, salts, fluids. Within this mysterious biology is a lonely particle on its journey through time and space. Deep within us it seeks to be connected to something that shines That is not dulled by other elements Or faded Or broken. How can this particle find its home Its rest Its target Its completeness, in a world of forced separation and violent disintegration perpetrated by human against human Blood for blood Bone for bone ? Though remote from the horror they sit in fortresses and palaces Foreign or familiar. Oh where

Dear Monty, Do you suffer from wind ? I'm suffering from a storm of names swirling in my head. Vlinderhof ? Winderhof? Piet Kingsbury Maryberry Names. My name Paulderhof My black back garden Coal Exhaust Salt Dog Wind in my housen Wind in my Garten Are you smiling smugly in your hedged haven ? My small garden is wind whipped today in contrast to a whippets rest in sunshine just at the start of the week. Contrasting Sometimes in my eyes - satisfying Sometimes annoying. Gardens remind me of Isra -el I struggle with the power in this life-force. Slash cut clear Grow flop fear Is it good enough ? It's good enough for me But it could be better. Paul

Dear Monty, Again I say pish. I was scorned for planting bedding begonias (2 quid a tray from Homebargins) in some of my pots and borders. I admit to panic buying them shortly before opening for the NGS in June. I had little colour in the garden, which under normal circumstances wouldn't bother me that much but I felt obliged to offer just a little. Some - who shall be nameless - mocked my efforts. Deservedly so - it was a rushed and mad idea which really wasn't me , or so I thought. But pish ! I now like them because they are picking up the red of the new flame -tipped growth of the Norway maple, and just look right ! There I said it. I know you have been down right rude about begonias Monty - and it seems this may be one of the rare occasions when the co - maker of The Veddw agrees with you. In life it seems so much easier to accept the infinite variety of taste. I like saying pish. Paul