Saturday 31 May 2014

Back down to earth

In much the same way as the cobbler’s children are often found in want of shoes, this gardener’s garden is beginning to look a little unkempt. I’d prefer to describe it as naturalistic, but I fear I may be pushing the boundaries of what is generally understood when applying that adjective to a style of planting, unless what is generally understood is a state of affairs in which Nature is striding forth with purpose on all fronts to reclaim the garden for her own.

But I’ve decided not to let it stress me; in fact, in an odd way I’m finding it quite refreshing. There was a moment at Chelsea this year when I was admiring the admittedly fantastic planting on the Hilliers stand in the pavilion; it was almost perfect, but I realised that what I really wanted to see – what would just tip it for me from fabulous to the inspired – was a tendril or two of bindweed cheekily peering over the top of a choice perennial, or the tell-tale texture of a dock about to come into flower catching the corner of my eye. I’ll admit that this is probably not a mainstream point of view, but I’ve come to understand that planting that gives a nod to the way nature would do it is where I feel most at home. I can appreciate and even enjoy more manicured styles – when done well, this kind of thing gives me that frisson you get when you realise you’re feeling challenged by being moved out of your comfort zone – but I get a real kick when the hand of the gardener is perhaps less explicit.

Is this just a case of me trying to justify the state of my chaotic garden? Well, possibly it is. What I know for certain is that while I loved Chelsea this year, I was immensely glad to get back home to my own brand of chaos.