Is Ninfa, as is so often claimed, the most romantic garden in the world? Click here to hear my view One Thing – Ninfa Latest in my (visually slightly dodgy) video series on gardens of the world, and the one thing they do best. Why not join me later this year when I next visit
If you’ve followed the discussion after that last post (I love those replies), you’d have seen Cathy’s on Sternbergia – an Autumn-flowering crocus-like thing.
It had me trawling through pics that I knew I’d taken, but don’t ever remember seeing, of the only time I’d seen Sternbergia naturalised/wild.
I’m totally addicted to Spring.
OK, I’m seriously overthinking this. I’ve been sitting here for an hour or so on a balcony overlooking an ancient sidestreet in Verona, trying to find an engaging angle on a particular garden that I’m capable of navigating in this over-tired, over-wrought state.
Revelation: water is a far more powerful presence in a garden than I’ve ever recognised before.
Lets be clear right from the outset – I’m not trying to generate sympathy when I start to mourn what I’m missing in my own garden while I’m away for the next month checking out gardens in Italy and the US.
I can’t quite settle, having done Villa Gamberaia an injustice. Not that I didn’t talk it up, but that I only talked of one small element and ignored the rest.
I’m still not ready to leave Italy, and following a point made in my earlier Italian garden post, I want to indulge in some impressions of Villa Gamberaia, just out of Florence. There’s been so, so much written about it over the last couple of hundred years, that there surely can’t be anything original left to say.
I’m fresh back from my first trip to Italy. I can’t remember ever being so infatuated with another country.. But I want to skip over the temptation to write a whole lot of gushing generalities, and go straight to one garden