I’ve had very little experience of gardening in my life. I can remember helping out with weeding as a child and digging with my little trowel in the dirt, but as an adult my extent of gardening stretched to growing (and killing) herbs on a windowsill or my student house garden, which was essentially an overgrown wasteland as we had no lawnmower to cut the grass with.
My mother, however, has definitely inherited the green finger gene from her parents and has a beautiful garden and thriving veg patch. Inspired, and somewhat hoping I might have inherited a bit of this plant affinity, I was excited to get started with my own garden, which was very much a blank slate when we arrived: one flower bed with a few sad looking plants in it, and one mature tree. Everything else was grass.
From my first planting in February, where I set down some tulip bulbs, I could tell I was going to be hooked on this. More so than the idea of having a colourful garden to support our insect and bird friends, I relish the peace and quiet I get when I’m gardening. My tulip bulbs sprouted and have turned into a waving sea of pink and yellow, and I can’t help but feel such deep down satisfaction at having worked the soil and grown something.
My garden has quickly gained two new flowerbeds and a whole wildflower patch has been added. My borders are overflowing with an array of whatever I can get my hands on in lockdown: primrose, hyacinth, petunia, fuchsia, chrysanthemum, astrantia, foxglove, verbena, lavender, roses and more. Some have been more successful than others, some won’t start flowering until later in the summer, and some have been victims of slugs and caterpillars (my poor primroses).
When I am gardening, I feel close to my roots in a literal sense. My grandfather was a supreme gardener and skilled with his allotment patch, bringing us runner beans, potatoes, curly kale and rhubarb. Coming home from school and finding a little blue and white striped bag hung from the front door was always a treat. My memories of my nan are her tiny garden filled with a huge white rambling rose, and smaller pots with orange, pink, red and blue moon roses.
As a 26 year old, I felt I was perhaps an odd one out in my generation, given that gardening is typically an older person’s pursuit. Lockdown has undoubtedly driven up the number of people trying their hand at gardening , but it seems more people are looking for ways to escape the hectic nature of modern life which is so dominated by screens and electronics. I realise that many people in my demographic do not have access to gardens, which will certainly contribute to the lower numbers of younger gardeners, but there is evidence that the 25-34 bracket is showing a growing interest in gardening.
Gardening is regularly cited as one of the best activities for our health, both mental and physical. From the benefits of fresh air and sunlight, to the sense of pride you get from caring for the earth, and the physical movements of digging, planting and weeding, gardening gives you a full range of restorative benefits for mind and body. Oliver Sacks, a neurologist, said that “In forty years of medical practice, I have found only two types of non-pharmaceutical “therapy” to be vitally important for patients with chronic neurological diseases: music and gardens.”
With lockdown being such a challenging time, I have found myself drawn more and more to my garden. Every day I talk a walk around my garden to check how things are, nip a dead flower off a rosebush, pull a cheeky weed from a bed. It keeps me grounded, it reminds me that things grow and take time and sometimes they need a little help, with watering or weeding or even totally uprooting and moving to a better position. It’s something I needed to learn and realise for myself, given I am currently without a job and trying to make the best of the current situation.
I can honestly say being able to dig my fingers into the dirt once a week, to take care of my garden and create a tiny haven for insects and birds has given me a sense of pride and belonging far beyond what I could have imagined. Lockdown and it’s enforced stay indoors messaging has shown exactly how important access to nature and green space is for our wellbeing in all senses.
At the end of the day, humans are animals, and animals know that nature is where we come from, and where we ultimately return to. I hope that after the worst of this storm passes, I won’t be alone among my peers in embracing the love of the garden and championing the power of plants.
Recommended reading:
The Bees, by Laline Paull. An absolutely outstanding book that will completely change the way you see the garden and the insects that live in it.
Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. An Eastern-European fairytale where the Wood is both villain and victim. A fascinating look at co-existing with forces of nature.
H.J.Albone Media 