There’s a part of my garden which looks spectacular at this time of year. I’m so proud of it, at the least excuse I’ll drag any willing visitor out into the cold as I ramble on about its many joys, but I’ll willingly admit to having had very little input into its success.
The passage of time has played a big part, as the original ornamental planting has settled down, interbred and accommodated all the species of native plants which have seeded or crept in and now there is a very settled community, happily coexisting. Hellebores, lungwort, violets, wild strawberries and Geranium macrorrhizum carpet the ground and snowdrops, bluebells, wild garlic and crocuses push up through them.
Above are the branches of a cherry plum, so prettily spangled with blossom, and a witch hazel with its weird spidery yellow flowers erupts out of it. All these flowers, of so many shapes and sizes, are a feast of forage for any brave pollinating insects daring to be out at this time of year. Usually it’s the big fat queen bumble bees, but any bit of warmer sun and the honey bees venture out too.
Ivy marches determinedly across the path and creeps through and beneath everything. Evergreen shelter to the soil and all its millions of its tiny inhabitants. I don’t now who they are, but I do know that they are there, no doubt some are food for the wren, robin and dunnock I see hopping through.
From time to time there are changes which bring me a bit of excitement and add to the diversity. This spring’s new foliage includes lots of teasel seedlings in a patch where more light comes in after a tree removal next door and also a little woody plant has popped up, which now it has a few leaves, I can see is a member of the currant family, no doubt I’ll discover which one in time.
This is my garden rewilding itself, an ecosystem developing where everything works together harmoniously and planting changes happen as habitat changes do. At its most appealing as a garden for me to enjoy right now, all year it offers shelter, food and home to something wild.
