Thoughts from a Wrinkly Gardener

The year of 1998 gone, next year a New Century. As little girls in primary school, now and again we would chatter about who would still be alive at that exciting time. The general consensus was that as we would all be 60+ years old, most of us would have kicked the bucket by that venerable age. Now we have reached that enormous age, the passage of time is but a fleeting thing

Gardeners are the first to cry "Hurrah"! as the hours pass as quickly as minutes and the years become a matter of hours. Why plant a tree that is going to bloom when it is thirty years old? Why begin a mammoth project, the creation of an eight-acre ornamental garden, when fifty or sixty years old? Because you are only sixty-two years old, the time will pass rapidly and he or she knows the day will come when they see the gardens and the trees blooming in their full glory. After all, the trees planted when the gardener was only a sapling, are still young things at their prime of life, fifty years later.

And yet, there is a conundrum for the passionate gardeners creating their masterpieces as the years trip merrily away. The bones begin to ache, the limbs begin to slow, the thoughts become mostly pensive and, dare I write it, these reveries begin to meander through the years of happy gardening and stop still for some minutes in awe of the beauty of nature. It is at these moments, the avid gardener will cry "Stop for a time and let us gather breath"

And then the gardener notices the native daffodils glowing in the far corner under the fifty-year old oak tree, the first rose of summer, the vivid blue of the crepe petals of a Meconopsis, the Christmas roses delicately giving their Winter cheer, the Camellias and Rhododendrons rushing into their strident glory, the pale pink foxgloves calming down the brilliant statements being made by the Primulas and it is then the gardener smells the scent of victory and the lilies that grow in the fields.

It is at these moments, the gardener knows that time and their gardens will go on forever.

And the gardener stoops and attacks the weeds with the nimbleness of a three year old

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There are some stunning photos of the roses in our gardens which you may care to see by clicking here The page is very graphic intensive but I love to share their beauty with you

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