You’ve probably picked up that there’s a lot of soul-searching that goes on in my garden.
This is not just about whether stuff is looking as good as it might, or if there are plants that need to be added to the mix, or others that should be removed. It’s not just whether I’ve overestimated the contribution of some players or underestimated the contribution of others, nor whether there are better and more efficient ways of achieving what I’m hoping to achieve, or simply managing what I have achieved.
I’m also forever re-examining whether I’m giving my garden and gardening the kind of time that might allow for that other hyper-elusive reward – those moments when my eyes are open to some level of beauty and connectedness that normally remains hidden – when there’s a renewed and amplified sense of intimate contact with my surrounds – when I feel like I’m a tiny but inseparable part of some truly wondrous and complex system.
It was at least partially my pursuit of these moments that attracted me to gardening in the first place, having some instinctive sense that cultivating the soil of my surrounds would naturally cultivate the conditions in which such moments are most likely to occur. I’ve since found they’re most likely to happen at dawn or dusk, and only when I’m most engaged, usually in some really low-stimulation, moderately physically demanding job, and not diverting my attention by tuning into radio, or a podcast, or some other seductive digital distraction.
I crave such moments. And it takes time – extended, silent time – to access them.
Do you experience such moments? When are they mostly likely to occur for you? Log in to the blog site here to comment, or if that’s too hard, simply reply to this email, and we’ll add your reply to those on the blog
Hoping that the next few weeks allows such time, and nurtures such moments. Both for you and for me.
Wishing you a very blessed and peaceful Christmas, and a very gentle slide into 2025.
Michael
(Please note: this will be our last newsletter until late in January. Meanwhile consider coming to the South of France with us in May ’25 (more here), or to the UK with us in September ’25 (more here))
Absolutely loved your Dream Gardens on ABC TV and would like to see more but totally understand if that is too hard. I have a 6 year old garden in Clunes (yes difficult conditions) that was literally a perimeter of yukkas that I tried to dig out at least 2 per day. Now retired I sit in my ‘thinking chair’ on the front porch and though always see work to do, appreciate the seasons of plants and birds. Wishing you and yours a joyful Christmas and peaceful but fulfilling 2025. Sharalyn, Clunes, VIC
Thanks Sharalyn for bringing my attention to Dream Gardens. I hadn’t come across it before so have just been happily exploring some of the wonderful episodes.
Gardening really is the best form of therapy, giving us time to contemplate our place in the world and our relationship with nature. The perfect place to put things into perspective. Standing in my messy veggie patch, looking up at the enormous mulberry tree and the sky beyond it releases all the tensions.
Hi Michael, Being addicted to BBC Radio 4 and Guy Garvey followed by Iggy pop on Sunday afternoons on 6 Music I’ve kind of lost the early days before digital made everything accessible. I’m seventy retired in Portugal but I do remember before I had a radio to hand in the garden which still sometimes happens. The awareness that takes over as you concentrate on what your doing. Usually quietly weeding. An old friend of mine Ernie a Hurdle maker in Dorset who spent his life in the woods once said to me ” You must be aware of it working in gardens .That moment when the birds suddenly stop singing and the ground all around you goes quiet and you know something is up.
Inspired by this post last evening I sat beside my pond in quiet and even managed to seethe frog who has lived here for years and I have never seen, happily peeling out from under a lily pad and croaking away.🙏
Yes, autumn light in the trees. Everything stops.
I think I know what you mean. Nowadays I only go to the office where I work two days a week, the other five I am at. home. During the warmer two-thirds of the year (in Brisbane QLD) I usually get out of bed, unlock the patio door and go straight out into the back garden at daybreak, still nude from bed, before the sun is too hot to be out in, and just mosey around, looking and musing. Often I end up picking up a water can and doing some watering from the rain tank, or noting that some other intervention needs to be done soon.
Hi Michael, thought you’d like this quote I came across recently. It’s sums up what most gardeners feel and understand.
There is an hour just before dark, when the garden resents interference. Its work, no less than the gardener’s, is done. Do not meddle with the garden at that hour. It demands, as all living creatures demand, a time of silence…’
A quote from Muriel Stuart, gardener and poet.
Keep up your great work 🙂
Martin, Cedarvale Qld