vii: Sage Advice
Where does your garden grow? Callum Halstead It took four years to finish my first garden— that is, if a garden can ever really be considered ‘finished’. Four years of clearing, planting, pruning, training, moving, replanting— and of course the endless tidying, tweaking and finessing —until finally I felt that it resembled the image I’d been carrying around in my head since the beginning. Not only was this the first garden I had created for myself from scratch, but it was the first that I had created at all; its completion felt like a huge achievement. Having followed the lessons learned over five years of horticultural training, as well as the distilled wisdom of garden writers such as Beth Chatto and Christopher Lloyd, I was not only pleased with how the garden looked, but satisfied that the plants I had selected were appropriate for our local microclimate. Already, they were starting to flourish. With some diligent use of a small growing cabinet and the shelter provided by my front porch, I’d even managed to trick a
few plants that weren’t particularly well-suited to the growing conditions into thinking that my garden was exactly where they wanted to be. I will stop being so self-congratulatory in a moment, but these little triumphs proved that I had learned a thing or two about plants and that I could put together a good design for a garden after all. Then, just as I was getting ready to enjoy my triumphant garden display for a fourth Summer, I received a job offer in a different part of the country. I had applied for the job, of course, but it wasn’t until after I had been accepted for the new role that the implications dawned on me. One implication in particular: I’d have to give up my garden. If you are a keen gardener, and unless you are already well and truly in your ‘forever home’, the chances are that at some point you will have to leave behind your beloved garden. Some gardeners might find it liberating to start afresh— pastures new, and all that. I recently watched a lecture given by the garden designer Arne Maynard, where he spoke about leaving a garden that he had spent fifteen years crafting; all he took with him was a dark-flowered hellebore and a rhubarb plant given to him by his godmother. But for me, I just couldn’t do it. After pouring so much time, energy and love into my garden, not to mention a fair amount of pocket money, I was not about to simply hand over my beloved plant collection to the next owner of my house. It was time to spring into action and ready myself and my plants for the big move. I hope my advice here will help those of you planning a move in the future to take a little bit more of your garden with you when the time comes. Should I stay or should I go? Whatever time of year you up sticks, it will likely be an inconvenient time to move or propagate at least some of the plants in your garden. This was one of the first issues that I
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