When I lived in London, I only had two window boxes to work with but I did the best with what I had, planting two layers of bulbs so when the first finished blooming, the second layer would be making its appearance. I had a beautiful little orange tree and a jasmine plant, whose delicious scent would greet me at the door.
My best friend was a member of The Royal Horticultural Society and so we attended the famous Chelsea Flower Show. In our mid-twenties, we were among the youngest in attendance, but had so much fun, drinking (way too much!) Pimm’s and admiring the extraordinary gardens and plants on display.
Now I live in America and have a garden. Much more room to work with. I have planted dogwood trees, hollies, hydrangeas. I just finished planting my crocus, tulip and daffodil bulbs and will only see them again when they bloom after we all hibernate this winter.
I recently came across an article by Alan Titchmarsh (the famous British tv gardening expert) called “When bookworms go to ground.” He mentions some of his favorite gardening books, Peter Beele’s Classic Roses, My Kind of Garden by David Hicks, Christopher Lloyd’s Meadows, among others.
But what I liked best about the article is his obvious love of books. He writes:
“So it is with my own books; some are close friends—intimates—others are acquaintances, to be dipped into when the need arises and, like all good acquaintances, they seldom disappoint.”
Close friends and acquaintances, yes, what lovely descriptions!
Well, it’s now time to put away the gardening gloves and the shovel. The first snowflakes will be falling any day now. It’s time to curl up in my armchair with a good book, occasionally looking out onto the garden to watch it transform into a winter wonderland. I’ll be thinking of all those little bulbs I just planted though, as they patiently wait for Spring.