Daphne bholuaI have been asked, what does the ‘magic of gardening’ mean to me? What is it that makes me smile when I walk around my garden? What gives me the ‘Wow factor’ when I visit other gardens and what makes me continue to battle against weather, pests and other problems because I would rather be in a garden than anywhere else?
I first began to garden at the age of five – watching my Mother and both of my Grandmothers tending flower borders. My maternal Grandfather was a professional golfer – in the days before there was money in it! He had the most immaculate lawn and would take a bamboo cane each morning to swish the dew from the grass. I still have an RHS Banks medal that his father (my Great Grandfather) was presented with. The scent of Dahlias and Zonal Geraniums always reminds me of his greenhouse, which he would show me, tobacco pipe in hand and followed by one of his beloved Cocker Spaniels, when I was a very small child.
My paternal Grandfather was a farmer who, as one of his many hobbies, grew vegetables and fruit, helped by my Mother. Through the summer we had plenty to feed seven of us, our bed and breakfast guests and to freeze and preserve for use later in the year! I think the copious amounts of pig manure that were added to the soil and used as a top dressing around the fruit bushes had something to do with this!
So I could say that like many others, gardening is in my blood, but something needs to fuel that legacy and keep it going.
For me it is the thought of seeing something new and this happens every day in any garden as the seasons change. Heading towards midwinter, the bare branches and trunks of trees are silhouetted against watery sunshine. Early spring brings the first Snowdrops and Daffodils, piercing through the soil along with bumble bees foraging for pollen. Later, birds begin scouting for nesting sites and the countryside, somewhat subdued through the winter months, comes alive with their song as they attract a mate. I always feel a sense of excitement when birds set up home in our garden – their antics amuse me for hours!
Visiting an open garden and seeing a mature plant that I have only previously seen in a book or as a small piece during one of my college plant identification tests, is one of the most magical experiences for me. It happened again recently, when I saw a mature Daphne bholua packed full of pink flower buds waiting to open and unleash their beauty and scent on passers by. The plant must have been at least twenty feet high – way bigger than anything I had seen before and that, coupled with the site of a mature Winter Sweet bristling with knobbly brown buds on the bare wood were the highlights of that garden visit!
I’m sure I could rewrite this hundreds of times and still come up with a different definition of the ‘magic of gardening’. That is the magic after all!
