Letters to garden makers

Dear reader, As you may know - the rectangular box hedge that subdivided a mixed border and provided a horizontal axis for the eye - succumbed to box blight - it lost most of its leaves and was beyond recovery. I had to dig it out which was a difficult thing to do both emotionally and physically. After desolation Before desolation The roots had gone deep. The resulting empty space is heart breaking. I have not rushed out and bought anything to replace it as yet, but I have moved some plants around - fortunately before the soil turned to iron. The space is now open to the elements. Sue is happy though as she always said the hedge took up too much space - making the hanging of washing on the retractable line difficult -  that's true as I also struggled to manipulate larger items in the space available. There is now more space between the line and the border - these considerations are important in a working domestic garden. I will...

Dear reader, Dreary weather persists, dank misted skies drip and the cold wetness has got inside me. I have had an unforeseen viral holiday. Yesterday briefly the sun shone through my prison widow. I need to do so much in the garden. I have to replace spalled terracotta pots possibly with recyclable plastic. Every type of 'frost proof' terracotta pot has been damaged. I will need to invest in glazed terracotta but I need to save up for them, and the shrubs can't wait that long for re potting - with their exposed root systems. I feel guilt at the idea of plastic - he says this while tapping on a plastic keyboard. It is everywhere in our homes and environment. Strange that it sits at the back of our conscience for so long and then there is a critical mass of opinion which washes it up to the surface. Perhaps we are too late to try and undo the damage - but at the very least we can help to prevent further amounts getting into the environment. And here I...

Dear reader, You may have watched 'Paradise Gardens' a brief but fascinating tour of Islamic gardens with Monty Don. It opened the eyes to see how many gardens have been influenced (even if unknowingly) by the idea of a garden made for contemplation. Contemplation and reflection require a still mind. Places in themselves are benign and inert - they only have a voice as they are filtered by our eyes and ears through the mysterious channels of our brain. It is a very human thing - but certain elements such as symmetry, water and sound enhance the effect in the human mind. We can sit in the same space and have very different reactions to it depending on what is happening in our minds and what is happening to the weather and the light. In this country we are very much at the mercy of the weather in terms of contemplating paradise ! These fluctuations in our internal landscape and how they change our visual perceptions and self esteem fascinate me. I wrote the follo...

Dear reader, The sun fills the thinking room highlighting the ruby red of the wine in the glass. I take a sip and its smokiness enhances a post lunch laxity. I have lost all impetus. The days have flown and ever since I said goodbye to Monty I have hardly touched the garden or thought about this blog. After all, there are so many voices out there that are so much better at expressing the 'thing' that is garden making. I recently read Grayson Perry's advice to aspiring artists - do not try to be global but be more like a celebrated local cheese ! So I've been slowly maturing. I like that as an aim - to have some integrity - to be rooted and know yourself and your terroir so that the final expression has real connection. The garden has become neglected - much like many of our gardens at this time of year. My concentration has shifted to making artwork on a scale and output not seen from me since my college days. Perhaps it is due to my mid-life crisis this nee...

I write this on the day of the first frost of the year - a white veil, a frosted curtain laid over grass and shrubs. Shostakovich is on Radio 3 and Iran and Iraq are split and moved. The earth groaning in anticipation of change. The earth does not shift here - well not for many years. I remember my wardrobe waking me one morning by performing a percussion against the bedroom wall back in the early 1980's. I rethink purpose - what is the motivation for living and breathing on such a day? I pray and filter out my conspicuous faults through my visible breath in the crisp air - and the awareness of another realm - found for example in a patch of golden light or in the exquisite beauty of a yellow hawthorn leaf on the background of dark leaf litter - I shed my old skin and am renewed again in this garden of delights. Paul.

Dear Monty, I have decided that it is probably about the right time to sign off from writing letters to you. As the light fades and the leaves leave the trees and the brief period of dormancy begins. Saying goodbye to you is easier when it is in tandem with the season. I end my letters to you not in a melancholy way but as a celebration of light - the light both natural and existential. I have come on a journey these past few years and writing to you about the garden has helped me enormously. I identified with your struggles and your connection to the soil - the sheer effort involved in making a garden can be vitally restorative on many levels - both physically and certainly mentally as you and many others have proved. I remember my first letter to you being very tongue in cheek - mocking your pretentiousness in calling a section of your garden 'the jewel garden' not realising at the time the connection both you and Sarah had to the fashion industry and the craft o...

Dear Monty, I received my copy of 'Down to Earth' this week - it has a very blue cover which matches my laptop. I have to admit to being a little disappointed by it - especially after listening to your introductory talk to bloggers on a rooftop in London. I perhaps expected more of the philosophical reasons for making a garden than a book on how and when and what to do according to the seasons. Nevertheless I do need to be reminded of the practicalities - and when you do bring insights into the why of garden making, it made me smile - a kind of spiritual recognition. I believe we grow into a garden over time - we get a feel for it and start to carve it and build it according to an inward response to the place. I often wonder what I would make of a new space. It must be a real challenge for designers to come up with a design that they will not be able to tweak over the years. I love the incidental - how light makes su...