The Plot

2002 incursion

The garden faces southeast. The woodland at the end, and the boundary to the south side contain many mature sycamore trees. Great for the squirrels to have fun in but not so brilliant when it comes to letting sun into the garden. It is on the side of a hill with the southwest side ground level probably around 1.5m higher than the opposite side. The soil is good old London clay with all the joys of ground movement and impossible digging conditions that that brings.

The section of the garden furthest from the house borders on to a local play area and in 2002 that border was breached and damage done to the fence and to the fledgling pond. For years therafter we did nothing to this part of the garden, concentrating our efforts on the bit nearest the house and letting the wilderness take over instead.

2014

By 2014 the two boughs of the aged apple tree had also collapsed. On the plus side, the woodpile formed a perfect environment for the stag beetles that frequent the garden on an annual basis. On the negative side, it looked a mess. It was also dangerous. The concrete paths laid by a former owner of the property had cracked and moved and were now covered in moss and ivy. During the 2002 incursion the fledgling pond that we had laboriously dug was filled with rubble and the lining was breached. However, it clearly retained enough water to enable a small  population of toads to survive. It was still damp, and there was sufficient undergrowth to hide under during the day. And my goodness, was there a fantastic food supply. In fact, how have I got this far without mentioning SLUGS.  Everywhere. Eating everything I planted. In fact it was only after years of concluding that I was a really rubbish gardner that I realised I'd actually been spending hundreds of pounds feeding lovely delicate plants to the slugs and snails.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to the "wilderness". That's where we were back in 2014, occasionally finding toads overwintering in the outside loo! 

Introduction

Aerial view of the garden

July 2019 saw London crowned as the first National Park City It is stuffed full of parks and gardens of all shapes and sizes. My little corner of the city backs on to an area managed by The Woodland Trust. When I throw the curtains open in the morning I see trees and, for much of the year, the sun peeking through those trees. A few of those trees are in our garden and the remainder do their very best to overshadow it and to consume every drop of water in the ground. The garden is my sanctuary. It is where I go to be still and grounded in what is otherwise a hectic and crazy world. On the best of days - those days when Heathrow is not instructing pilots to fly into a holding pattern - it is possible to sit at the bottom of the garden on the edge of the woodland and hear nothing but birds. In London that is an enormous privilege. Huge.

Over the last few years we have reclaimed the garden from invading ivy, tree saplings, weeds and more ivy. We have replaced hazardous cracked and uneven concrete paths with smooth level paths. We have made the best of the fact that the garden is on the side of a hill by creating a mini terrace, not from front to back, but from side to side. Our trees are now under control thanks to our fantastic tree surgeon who manages the balance between the fact that we are in a conservation area and the fact that our buildings insurers insist on the trees being managed. We are also getting the hang of working in harmony with the surrounding trees - pruning the worst of the overhanging branches and devising raised beds that don't fill up with tree roots every summer. I am constantly reminded, though, that were I to stop tending it, it would quickly revert back to its woodland state.

In short, this blog is intended as a garden diary, in part to help remind me of the progress of the year. It is also yet another attempt at regular writing - something that I always yearn to do but somehow find excrutiatingly difficult.  If I get beyond three posts then I will be thrilled.