Great Dixter Revisited

(RE-POST) It’s exactly half my life since I lived and worked with Christopher Lloyd at Great Dixter.  I returned yesterday – a rich, life-giving and pretty emotional moment.



  1. Thank you so much , Michael, for this. Beautifully presented- I was right there listening to the birds and appreciating your hushed tones. I’ve not been to Great Dixter and almost feel now that I have seen some of it in real time!
    Thank you, too, for your comments especially about letting plants spill on to the pathway. My garden is open to the public just a few days once a year and whilst others make sure the paths are clipped back, I don’t! It all works as you say and the garden does not become manicured or produced in feel.
    This has made my day!

  2. Oh my – I just teared up! This was beautiful – thank you. Trying to put my finger on what it is about walking narrow paths and brushing past plants – it evokes a sensation that must come from childhood…running and pushing through foliage to hide or explore and not being able to see what’s around the next corner…being enveloped…thanks for sharing such beautiful glimpses of Dixter.

  3. Fabulous Michael and kudos to the person behind the lens. Can you take us through more gardens in this way?

  4. Intoxicating Michael! I can almost smell it….there’s nothing like England on a perfect summer’s evening, and clearly there’s nowhere like Dixter. The stillness…..the light…..enveloped…..enchanting. What a heartfelt return for you and thank you for sharing such a special moment. Mx

  5. Michael .. I have watched the video 4 or 5 times by now and in my quiet time today I was contemplating … trying to find the right superlatives

    and though I cant be there ….. but I can feel it , smell it, sense it in every way and I so value that the romance has not been compromised for the visitors . And it almost looks better that ever given the warm summer there … like it is bigger than Christo’s imaginings ..
    I remember Sarah Guest telling me of her childhood experiences at Sissinghurst when Roses spilled over the paths and she had to duck and dive around summers exhuberance dare I talk about Vita’s imaginings

    so in search of superlatives there is nothing more super than being there pardon me!

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