Small garden musings

E. A. Bowles, in the last chapter of My Garden in Autumn and Winter, sums up his garden philosophy:

So if only the owner of a garden will plant enough plants of the most different types and habits procurable, there ought to be never a day in which he cannot find some pleasure in watching growth or decay, structure of bud, leaf, blossom, fruit or stem, no minute of the daylight hours of the working days in which there is no interesting or health giving work to be done; and no bed of the garden that will not provide some offering for a friend, whether it be cut flowers, ripe seeds or divisions of roots.

This mirrors my own feelings with regard to gardens. But my tiny garden space is such a constraint. It is difficult to think in the large and flowing terms encouraged by such a philosophy. I would love to indulge old loves and new fascinations in my garden. Daylilies, irises, salvias, roses, herbs; all deserve their own space to flourish and provide the diversity of intangible and tangible rewards that Bowles describes.

In the interest of full disclosure I must admit that my very small herb bed has gone quite wild, being overrun by those two wantons, wild marjoram and rose yarrow. This past year I gave in to a seductive but flawed attitude; if I do not have the space to create the kind of herb garden I covet then I won’t even be bothered with working with what I have.

Of course this kind of petulance is necessarily short lived. What gardener can look very long at a potential space, however small it might be, and not begin drawing up mental plans? There a numerous design books that address small garden spaces and I am nothing if not a good pupil. With some pleasantly diverting selection and some daunting excavation maybe I can renovate the herb bed to include sufficient 'different types and habits procurable' to provide daily interest.

Maybe all gardeners have similar stories, but somehow I always picture other’s gardens as flawless. This rosy illusion is not unlike the domestic harmony I imagine behind lighted windows at dusk. Both happy fictions.

But this year’s herb bed episode has given me pause. If such a small matter can intimidate me would I even be capable of handling a large gardening space if fate suddenly provided one? I like to think so and will continue to hope for the opportunity to find out.