garden writing

Garden Journal (No.8) – In Search of Stars

| Gary Webb

My record of autumn arriving as summer fades, of scarred soil, of garden friends and foes, plus tasks planned for the home garden and family allotment, it’s all in here and more besides. 🌿

Hello and welcome to my garden journal.

Generally Speaking

Autumn… for me is an important time of year, where I try to immerse myself and take notice of every garden moment. There always seems to be an urgency to these actions, as if the garden at any moment could up sticks and leave. I don’t know why but I’m drawn to write now more than at any other time of year, endeavouring each time to capture and hold each experience in words, like cupped hands carrying water from a fresh flowing stream.

A sunrise sky and silhouette picture, where buildings and young trees are highlighted by the glow of a rising sun.
One of the golden sun rises this week, when all is calm in the garden.

Normally around now I’m drawn to comment on how the summer’s flown by, and in some ways this is still the case – especially the holiday part which disappeared in a flash! Right now though, what I mostly recall are slow moving steady days, where the door to the garden was, for the most part, left wide open. As the seasonal cycle dictates though, that wonderful open-door policy was always going to change, and that soft changeover period is upon us now, as we inch ever closer to autumn proper.

Thanks to plenty of rain in recent weeks which ended the longest and driest of periods, my early autumn garden is once again lush and vibrant, if a little weary around the margins. Days have mellowed, nights are noticeably longer, and most mornings are decidedly damp and cool.

A little white pine growing on its merry way in my garden.

Not wanting to wistfully wave summer away just yet though, I feel it’s important each day to head outside and connect with nature and the season in some way. It’s all too easy to plough on through and chip away at the tasks in hand, but a few moments of fresh air with some sun on my face, or standing bare foot to connect with the ground really does reinvigorate my soul.

⚠️ Trigger Warning for molluscophobes and arachnophobes…!

The other day though, whilst out on one such garden visit, I found myself sharing the space with a large red slug who was making their way steadily across the patio. Unlike days of old, this time I simply thought – wow, that’s a big un! I took its photo and let it go on its way, realising this too signified change, bringing an end to late night bare foot strolls around the garden in search of stars. How times change eh…

A large red slug moving across paving in a garden
They do divide opinion, but they’re pretty formidable creatures IMHO…

In the Garden

The Ground Swells – and it’s been an absolute joy to have welcomed some much-needed rain over the last couple of weeks or so; it was certainly needed. Near me water has fallen from the sky frequently and in quantity, and in no time at all what might have passed for an old rush mat out front (but was actually a lawn,) is now transformed into a lush green carpet.

I do have concerns over the border soil though, as cracks from months of desiccation are still visible – as if the ground is scarred. Recent rainfall has helped but marks remain, and whilst it’s easy to move forward without concern, in the coming season I’ll have to consider how to better support and protect the soil from which my garden grows. I feel even more mulching may be in order…

Wildlife – I think it’s fair to say that conditions for many wildlife species have been less than ideal this summer, but at least conditions are settling now to something near normal – whatever normal is, that is!

The first of two species I’ve encountered of late is our beloved Ladybird which has returned to my garden in good numbers again. It may be a small thing, but I took delight this year in carrying two of these bright red soldiers across the garden and depositing them on a black aphid infested Dahlia stem. Thankfully, just two days later one of the lady birds was still there chomping away on the aphids, and today there are no aphids at all – happy days.

The final species I’ll mention just now is a garden spider, one of the orb weavers if my I.D. app has done its job correctly. As architects and builders of some exquisite structures, their webs seem to be placed everywhere in my garden just now, spanning most gaps between sheds and garden stems. Maybe a little over a centimetre wide, they’re creamy beige in colour with dark markings. Interestingly, like a few folks I’ve worked with way back in time, sometimes they seem to hang around motionless for ages, and sometimes there’s no trace of them at all – I’ll mention no names but I always know who will have been most productive. 😉 If you can tolerate it, do study that web – it’s fascinating and holds some incredible cross bracing!

European Garden/Orb Weaver Spider

Like many, though a spidey-fan when growing up I must admit to not being drawn to actual spiders. Having gotten used to them over the years though I now just see them as garden friends, as long as I’m not getting caught up in a web that is! Mind you, as spiders are particularly active just now, my key tip would be to wave a short stick around the area in the border where you wish to work, as if you’re casting a magic spells over your plants… Option: Shout #Riddikulus to give your neighbours something to think about!

@AllotofPotential allotment – Allotmenteering has been a little hit and miss of late, although the summer holiday period always disrupts the usual flow of visits. In all fairness, the allotment is somewhat tatty around the edges, but all considered it is in fairly good order.

Stopping way short of a harvest festival write up, I can at least start by saying we’ve a small sack of good-sized onions hanging in the shed. I’m patting myself on the back for this growing achievement of course, as under-sized onions have been the norm in previous seasons. The focus on bulking-up organic matter in the soil is finally starting to pay off I believe.

A gardener crouched down, searching through soil for small potatoes
It’s not about the tan, but the tatties! Myself in action at the allotment…

Whilst the glasshouse courgette plants eventually succumbed to powdery mildew, it wasn’t until they had delivered a steady supply of fruits all summer. Pulling them out created space for drying and storing the pumpkins, which have grown and coloured up nicely. The glasshouse shade netting has also now been removed now, to increase light and heat for the remaining tomatoes.

Speaking of toms, they are finally on song now after a sluggish start, and although it’s fair to say the plants are a little unsightly (due to a lack of attention), we should be good for pasta sauce for the foreseeable. It didn’t help that one plant is seriously deformed with fasciation, but I have made a mental note to be more attentive to their needs next year in an effort to keep them on the straight and narrow.

Looking Ahead

Whilst it’s all too easy not to make the time and to save some pennies, I’m tempted again this year to plant at least a couple containers for some extra spring colour in the garden. Once they’re planted, it’s not only the anticipation they bring, but the little teasers they offer in winter as their new shoots break through, promising good things to come. Yes, they’re worth the effort, so I shall plan for those, maybe some tulips or miniature Iris, or some hyacinths for a change.

There will be some continued feeding of longer-term containers here and there with seaweed feed, and I’ll be looking to keep on dead heading, although things are slowing now. I need to lift some Stachys that is getting beyond its limits, and I’ll be raising some pots off the ground to ease their drainage – popping little clay feet beneath as many pots as I can.

More weeding of the allotment must not escape me, to check the advancement of couch grass roots into the borders. Also, as any rows become are clear of crops and weeds, and if I’m not planting with onions or garlic, I shall be looking to mulch with manure and cover them over for winter.

Outside there’s a season of compost to turn and re-cover, and a rather full bin at home, and hopefully there will be some good enough material amongst that to spread about and around. Inside the glasshouse in the coming weeks tomato plants will need to come out and the soil refreshed, so there’s plenty to keep me engaged and engrossed as always.

Rest assured that I won’t be far from my garden in the coming weeks, and I hope you’ll be in yours or visiting one or another, to experience this very special time of year. The Autumn Equinox approaches and some of the best days are ahead, so let’s get out there and embrace it!

That’s my gardening lot just now, and I’ve taken enough of your time, so I’ll sign off and wish you all the very best for the days ahead. Until next time, Gary, Gardening ways.

A Winter Walled Garden

| Gary Webb

I find myself sat under a large triangular shelter, built snugly into the southern corner of a three-sided walled garden open to visitors, known as Baddesley Clinton. In their down-season dress, ornamental flower borders line three of the garden’s walls, sprinkled here and there with red bows bringing a little Christmas cheer. The sky is fixed grey and moody, and after warming myself with lunch in the bright bustling café, this spot seemed as good a place as any other to sit awhile and write.

A Box shrub wrapped in a bright red Christmas bow, situated in the walled garden at Baddesley Clinton. Lawns and fruit trees beyond, and a moody clouds up above.
A little Christmas cheer, at Baddesley Clinton. Image: Gary Webb.

Built primarily as a shady summer retreat, I’m certain that in the heat of summer, this shelter offers cool respite for visiting guests, and for working gardeners too. In this shade, time served timbers and darkened joists support a thatched mossy roof, under which a tangled bird’s nest rests in the shadows; just like me. Red bricks line the floor,

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Rain’s Good for the Garden

| Gary Webb

We often hear it said that rain is good for the garden, a typical response meant to lighten the mood of a rainy day. Where though, does a rainy day leave the gardener, is a rainy day good for them too? Well, after years of living and around gardens, here’s my naturally positive take on this situation.

After what seems like days and weeks of rain, autumn’s dampness has well and truly settled in, and it feels like I may not see dry soil in my own garden again for some time. I don’t state that as a complaint though I have to say, as I’m understanding that weather’s balance constantly moves back and forth, some days or weeks sitting wet, some dry, and in between, hopefully, there comes some useful middle ground.

An image of a lake with swans, and autumnal trees in the background. Above is a sunny and dark sky and rainbow.
When the weather turns – Sourlands Pool, nr Farnborough Hall, Warwickshire. Gary Webb.

Where gardening and garden visiting is concerned, striking that perfect balance between weather and conditions can be a fine thing indeed, and most of us do live in hope of this garden idyll. If, however, I’m to wait until the soil is dry, or postpone

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A Dream Garden

| Gary Webb

There is a place, where one glorious garden space after another can be found hidden behind tall foliage covered walls. The garden is the sum of many parts, each one offering a picture-perfect scene: a sunken pool with a cherub here, an ancient cold bath over there, and across the way, beyond an old sundial, old orchard trees grow, and bees float poetically above rich meadow grass.

At its heart and wrapped all around an evocative Tudor house this garden’s presence is delivered, unconditionally, through first-rate cultivation. Traditional flower borders grow deep and delicious, terraces are packed with perennials and tender exotics, and golden grasses gently

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Writing on Gardens and Nature

| Gary Webb

I might have sunk into the depths for a while there, but I’m back now and getting into my old writing ways, on gardens and nature.

If you gave me the stage with an open mic, words would probably fade and I’d likely find myself with little to say of consequence. However, if you gave me a scribbling stick and asked me to write something down, I’d likely be back to you in no time at all asking for more paper, and a pencil sharpener. Writing does something for me, and over time it’s grown to the point where I couldn’t imagine living without it in some shape or form. Lately however I have needed to step back a little.

Recovering from illness, I’ve hardly found myself not able to write for a few weeks now, and I have genuinely missed it, indeed my last post back in April took quite a while to pull together. Feeling under parr has made it

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Morning Garden

| Gary Webb

A valuable first hour of the day watching the garden and day unfold.

Being the first to awake, I pull back the living room curtains to let in the light, and reveal the garden. Sitting with a mug of hot water and taking time to appreciate some waking time alone, I relish the fact that for a while at least, all is calm. All is calm, that is, but for the occasional airplane and birdsong, both effortlessly travelling through air, brick, and glass.

Outside, bright sunshine splits the early morning garden clear in two, two thirds to the left is bathed in warming light, the remaining third looking somewhat cooler in shade. It’s a superbly serene beginning to the day, and as I sit quietly observing, blocking out the day ahead and thinking over the work that’s gone into the garden thus far, I begin to write.

Cloud pruned box just outside my window. Gary Webb

The scene before the picture window presents a young, maturing garden, green mostly and bordered by a fence recently painted black. As a composition, the garden’s content has been laboured over for some time, ideas initially

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Christmas Chaos

| Gary Webb

It is morning, and the Christmas tree stands silently in the corner of the living room jewelled with baubles and decorations, my favourites being miniature flower pots and garden tools, naturally. This year we’ve added a little shiny watering can, just to keep things green. Paper snowflakes hang around the room in otherwise blank spaces, extra candlesticks and lanterns have been artfully placed, and an olive wood nativity scene sits on top of a bookcase; our own Christmas stage is almost set.

Outside, the garden as often the way in winter, is sodden. Around here for the last two weeks or so we’ve swung from sharp frosts to long periods of rain, and the garden in many ways is best enjoyed through the window. Indeed, venturing out yesterday with a

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Morning Chair

| Gary Webb

Sitting soon after day break in my living room, freshly opened curtains reveal an autumnal garden in the midst of change. The soft lawn is lending a carpet-like neatness to the open central space, and shabby margins wrap around the garden like a thick fluffy scarf. Welcome to the view from my morning chair.

Halloween pumpkins continue to scowl from just beyond the window, glistening from yet another night of rain. On the ground nearby, a cluster of silver leaved lamb’s-ear plants sit quietly in their now soggy holding pots, and a baby maple already bares its wintry frame from a wooden tub. A lush lawn, some well-stocked borders, a sprinkling of trees and a mug of hot coffee: what more could I want for this moment?

It’s a grey morning, but as a pendulum swings audibly in the room daylight incrementally grows, casting light on the ever-changing outdoors. In the garden, foliage light-green

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Ghostly Gardeners

| Gary Webb

Ghostly Gardeners – a fictional piece based on a world of experience, following a writing prompt about a doorway. By Gary Webb

Looking back, maybe it wasn’t an overactive imagination that placed those oasis-like images in my mind. Maybe the ghostly head gardener had put them there to whet my appetite; to convince me not to pull the old glasshouse down but breathe new life into it. I suppose it could be restored with a few fresh timbers cut-in and some new glass, maybe giving another century of growth, but I’m torn, as when I first set my sore eyes on that tumbledown structure.

When I was there the door, indeed the whole glasshouse clearly needed more than a lick of paint to set it straight. Rust coloured rainwater stained the timber below hinges and where putty should have sat neatly between wood and glass, mossy cushions

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