Letters to garden makers

Dear reader, You might be suffering from garden overload  after watching the extensive coverage of the Chelsea Flower Show on the BBC. We were reminded by Monty Don that these are show gardens and therefore cannot approximate to real gardens in terms of their longevity. The plants used are straight from nurseries where they would have been cajoled into flowering or being at their peak. In my real garden - the plants have to deal with weather, pests and me the garden maker. There was a distinct trend towards naturalism this year - so that cheered me up somewhat - one thing my garden is is naturalistic - it is weedy - but intentionally so - for the insects. I put up with the so called pests because they are food for the birds. So if you want to see a garden that has been made for the insects and birds - and for humans to sit in and relax, to hide away and think - then come to the Coal Tip Cloister Garden and Rhos Y Bedw in Ystalyfera and help raise money for nursing c...

Dear reader,  I am a fan of imperfection. Paving at the entrance to The Veddw I had the privilege of visiting The Veddw a couple of weeks ago. I love this garden created by Anne Wareham and Charles Hawes, it is unique, unlike any other garden that I have visited in the UK. The garden is full of reflection - reflection on the history of the land, reflection in the form of hedges mirroring the shape of the hills, and reflection of the sky and trees in the reflecting pool. This year there is the addition of reflecting balls on pillars in the meadow, a brave replacement for diseased trees. I think they work well and fit in with the ethos of the garden. What fascinated me is that you get to see yourself in the space. The garden works in an architectural way. The plants are integral to the architecture. There are a lot of 'invasive' plants, which to my mind unify the spaces. It is not perfect - in the sense that there are 'weeds...

Dear Reader, Yesterday I had the amazing opportunity to read pages of Derek Jarman's diaries from his time at Prospect Cottage, which are part of an exhibition called 'Phytopia' at Swansea's Glynn Vivian Art Gallery. I have been thinking of ghosts, the ghosts of plants the hauntology of the landscape moving from death to life. Jarman's garden on the Kent coast was of its place. This is 'my' place - I live on the hill at this images centre Jarman wrote passionately. He wrote of his garden, of his impending death and his beautiful life -the warmth of the sun on skin, passionate love, suffering and painful beauty. Ghosts of Ivy Perhaps I should not perpetuate the so called myth of the romantic artist - but Jarman was no myth. Ghost garden slowly reincarnating The arrangement of objects that he found on the shingle beach, arranged in cabinets were the ghosts of his authorial eye. Cast in bronze the acanthus flower stem l...

Dear reader, I'm not sure if you are still out there, which is how I felt about the garden until these last couple of warm days. Underneath the debris the garden was trying to return, and a few hours in the sun, clearing dry stems and cutting back old growth began to reveal what I thought was lost. Cutting and pruning reveals the spaces between. It is this creating of space which more than anything provides me with a sense of satisfaction. I am not a plantsman - any horticulturist would instantly recognise this fact if they stepped into my garden. I consider myself a sculptor of space for better or for worse. Having watched the excellent Japanese Gardens programs by Monty Don - I realise that there are elements that I subconsciously use that are present in a more precise way in Japanese gardens. That made me feel very happy. Here is a sample of today in this small space. Hope you enjoy this Paul

Dear reader, Like many of us I love walking, leaving behind the insulated world of the car and feeling the strain of pulling this body up gradients and through mud and over streams. I like the sounds, scents and the thoughts on route; which enable me to discover more about myself, my attitudes and my limitations. The sea empties itself on the welsh hills Pushing thoughts low to the ground Ideas like rain Form pools and streams They settle into the season Of winter trees, wood smoke and fire Settling briefly Not still Not dead But moving in cyclical purpose This season brings dank darkness It seeps into the soul I remember things I would like to forget Fragility, vulnerability even anger But there is comfort in the certainty I live today I am as brief upon the face of this landscape As the sudden surges cutting new channels Today I am filled with years and am satisfied Paul