Gardening

In recovery from a spell in hospital, the gardener reflects on the healing nature of her work and the knowledge it has imparted to her.

The author’s admiration of the hardy plant life spreading across the roof turns to alarm when the true nature of the growth is revealed.

In times of great pain and loss, retreating to the garden allows us moments in which to observe, to imagine and ultimately to cope.

Having begun to nurture the shoots for spring planting, the gardener turns her attention to the heartening prospect of an expanded habitat.

Routine is a solace to many, but the winter garden is a reminder that change will come, and the gall wasp’s days are numbered.

The withering zucchini plants turn the gardener’s thoughts to the end of season – the green tomatoes that may not get to ripen, the worm farm and the pope.

Returning from travels, the gardener finds the wild profusion of growth that summer entails, and her place in the work of taming and protecting.

The garden takes root in the memory as much as in the soil, and can bring solace to the traveller far from home.