Of an ending and a beginning

Notes from a (sort of) neglected garden

When it comes to gardening I have minimal knowledge accompanied by varying levels of enthusiasm. There have been extended periods when I've found pleasure in cutting, weeding, pruning and planting. I've marveled at the robin following me around, I've poured over magazines and catalogues, bought plug plants and shrubs and enthusiastically found them homes in the garden. Generally in all the wrong places. In one such burst of enthusiasm I planted 125 crocus bulbs, spurred on by visions of the garden in spring, vibrant in lilac, yellow and white. Within a week my visions were shattered by a squirrel who determinedly returned again and again until he had removed and replanted every single one. A handful he put back in my garden, I hope the neighbours enjoyed their respective shares of the remaining 120. Needless to say I've never planted bulbs since. Between these periods of enthusiasm there have been long spells where I've done the minimum and wished wholeheartedly that everything would just stop growing. Especially the weeds. And the things in wrong places.

(Bleeding hearts are one of the few splashes of colour, and they just keep coming back every year.)

Over time my garden became a low maintenance green space, beds filled with trees and shrubs but little else. I thought this was what I wanted but I was wrong, it's lacking colour and vibrancy and life. And still things are in the wrong places. I decided recently that the garden needs to change, I don't fully know what I want but I do know that I need to begin by clearing space. Things in wrong places will just have to go.

I started by clearing three large and overgrown bushes (in installments, my garden bin is only collected fortnightly) and for the next few weeks I looked at the space and wondered to do with it. I still don't know really but I have decided that the holly tree also needs to go, it was there when we moved in 24 years ago but it has gradually crowded out other growth. There's a hydrangea beneath that struggles for light, a beautiful rhododendron that's grown leggy as it fights for its own space and, tucked away in the corner, a small tree that I hadn't seen for years and can no longer remember what it is. I'll need to get someone in to remove the holly, that'll be a job for late winter, but in the meantime I'll keep hacking away, making space, letting in light, and slowly preparing ourselves for its absence. Its an ending and a beginning all wrapped up together. I'm just not quite sure what it's the beginning of...

I think I'd like to grow flowers. A riot of colours and shapes, that I can cut and put in jars around the house. I'd like to grow veg too although I suspect the space I'll have by spring won't quite be right. Containers of veg, maybe? I'm not really sure where to start with either of them but fortunately I've the whole winter ahead of me to try and work that out.