Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, Today I was saved by the trees - colour, detail, sun and scent Heaven sent Yet in the midst of it - quiet burning How can a man rescue himself ? The gold, yellow, copper The oranges and the reds The crisp leaves underfoot The crystal cold water And yet even being rescued by these - anger still rises I am a profane man The drive home from the park Highlights this heart was formed in the dark Too slow for some too fast for others I cave in to the anger displayed through a car window From peace and joy to a furnace as red as the leaves Shamed, I sit in the garden A flock of crows like flying black rags blown by the wind Flap below the poplar I watch the light and find salvation in it Even for a man like me. Paul.

 Dear Monty, Holidays give time for reflection - here are three illustrated poems inspired by the town of Newport Pembrokeshire. 1. Begotten Today have I begotten you The child feeding the pony an apple over the stile The sun weakly shining over the sea The smile The food and wine shared in a stone cottage above that sea And below the hill of angels. He became a little lower than the angels Today have I begotten you The sun The earth The moon The tide When does it end - This ever learning and never understanding ? When do we rest from our labours or cease from our endless fight ? 2. Bright water Geese flocks noisily feeding Haunting the estuary with their sound Stones stand Norman walls Ancient church These walls have stood for longer than the flesh and blood that built them Perhaps this is why there is desperation and frustration for us mortals who rage To see the pace at which we age The power that once drove us to unite Now ...

Dear Monty, I am cold in throat and bones. Weak sun The garden Italianate in its appearance cheers me Then as if by some mystical communication A post-card from Siena Piazza del Campo From Charles Hawes In another strange parallel He has a cold And the weather breaks I'm looking at winter bones Through thinning leaves - Each season gives generously I'm not melancholy.         Paul

Dear Monty, I am re- reading 'What Are Gardens For ?' By Rory Stuart. I have searched the pages and the index but cannot find - for drying socks. This could be a grave omission on Rory's part or perhaps drying socks or pants or sundry items of clothing and bedding is not meant to be part of garden making and design. I am now having a crisis - what if having a washing line in your garden does not fulfil the ambition of having a garden of merit ? I may have to face up to the truth that the coal-tip cloister garden is just a semi- rural post industrial back yard. But maybe sock drying is an essential element of a living space in which humans, plants and socks co-exist in domestic harmony. I am reminded of the gallery at Hauser & Worth and photographs of the installation of pants on lines taken by Anne Wareham of   veddw.com . Whichever it may be : socks, underpants, knickers - they all have to be accommodated in our outdoor spaces unless we have drying ro...

Dear Montague, In pursuit of a new perspective of my coal-tip garden, I pruned the washing line in error. Nevertheless I have placed a chair in the gap and I think that this is the best Autumnal viewpoint for the garden. Sue took the news well. New perspectives are what keep me alive. Can you imagine how tedious and empty life would be without them. Verging on the sleep of the dead this morning I struggled with the idea of worship. Yesterday I felt the incredible vastness and awe of the pillar of truth. There was a pillar erected by Jacob after he had rested his head upon the stone and then saw a vision of a ladder reaching to heaven. This stone could have been worshipped but it was erected to mark heaven touching earth. In a garden or in the landscape I still feel this heaven - earth connection. Yesterday a dragonfly rested on my arm as I sat in the sun with a cup of tea. I was able to marvel at its intricacy and was humbled by being its perch. That was a connecting mo...

Dear Monty, I agree that many of our gardens are like woodland clearings, but perhaps a significant number are not, and garden makers with small urban plots would struggle to see the connection perhaps. But even in small urban gardens or even balconies - the principles of shade, and semi- shade and dry areas would apply. If the population of speckled wood butterflies is anything to go by, then the coal-tip cloister garden is definitely a woodland clearing. The speckled wood may not be the most colourful butterfly - but it is one of my favourites. It has a green iridescence on its thorax and abdomen and cream speckles on a nut brown background on the upper wing surface. I have sold my speckled wood paintings - so it is time for another. On Sunday we visited another 'woodland clearing' in the form of Montpelier Cottage - the home and garden of  noels-garden.blogspot.com  just within your beautiful county of Herefordshire. Noel and Jo Elliot open their garden with...

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...