My garden

What does my garden say about me?

If not exactly an autobiography, my garden does reflect my upbringing. My mother preferring the hard-working, low-maintenance shrubs and perennials, whilst my father preferred the showy and flamboyant blooms of annuals, daturas, geraniums and roses.  Very interesting and on reflection I must conclude  that any garden is a fusion of personal choice and sentiment and it is a perfect way to express yourself.

Yes, there is a certain amount of snobbery involved in gardening but I suggest that you ignore this and create your own piece of Eden regardless. This is what I have done and I am never more at peace and at home than in my garden.

My garden is neither big nor small, not that it matters. What does matter to me is that it has meaning. My plants are chosen, not just for their visual impact. It is this that makes a garden special. I don’t get hung up by fancy colour schemes or rare species. I don’t spend a huge amount of time in my garden. But because everything I do is with meaning and purpose, the results are perfect for me.

I love the quote by H E Bates who said that “gardens should be like lovely, well-shaped girls; all curves,secret corners,unexpected deviations, seductive surprises and then still more curves”. I certainly haven’t nurtured my garden with these words in mind, but I know exactly what he means.

I love my garden; I love the calm and fulfilment it brings. I watch and wait in January for the first glimpse of snowdrops and crocus indicating that spring is on its way. Hyacinths of all colours in March; traditionally used to celebrate Iranian “Nowruz” New Year. The magnificent dicentra in April which throws up swathes of delicate heart-shaped blooms like strings of pink pearls. I love the bees that hum away on the spring blossom; I love the butterflies that visit to suck on the juicy nectar provided by the budleias. I love sitting next to the pond listening to the gentle splash of the fountain. I love the grape vine as it grows and spreads along the garden wall and covers everything in its path, eventually producing large succulent, sweet grapes in abundance.

And when the autumn mists finally arrive, I’m happy that I have had yet another year of pleasure out of my garden and rather then regret the turning of the seasons, I look forward to another magnificent display of nature next year.

This is my haven; my oasis.

How lucky am I?


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