Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, What started this line of thought about realism was a conversation with the shaft of illuminating light that is Ray - a ray of sunshine. Ray is an orchid grower, salesman and expert. I met Ray again at this year's Orchid Festival at  gardenofwales.org.uk  where along with botanical artist  pollyoleary.co.uk , I had a stand exhibiting my distinctly  non botanical paintings. Having made a comment to him about how one visitor to my stand understood where I was coming from - in terms of my preferred style of painting, Ray pointed out that it was obvious to him which of my paintings were purely academic observation and which were not. (Ray prefers realism which is objective observation.) I understood his viewpoint, because reality to him is about what is in front of your eyes and it shouldn't be complicated with anything else, reality is just reality. I bought a beautiful book from one of the other stands in the festival called 'A...

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

Dear Monty, A brief letter written about the reality of the day. Today is a day off from tending to wounds, doing ecg's , checking medication and blood pressures, discussing diabetes control, taking bloods, checking lung functions, discussing diets and weight, giving travel advice and vaccines, hormonal treatments and chemotherapy, disease modifying drugs, syringing ears, monitoring chronic diseases, listening and encouraging, and most of all inputting data into the ever hungry machine. My brain slows to a pedestrian pace. I miss Mr Owl - but I may have found a replacement waiting to be revealed from inside a block of fly tipped thermalite found on the coal tip that overshadows this garden. I feel overshadowed. But burning slowly inside is an unquenchable fire - it is held in a glowing ember. I still love this strange mix of post industrial and nature. It is both scruffy and beautiful. I was once a working class boy who made dens and plasticine caterpillars. N...