The Roses at Jackson's Wold Garden

I arrived at Jacksons Wold without much of a plan, which, in hindsight, is often the loveliest way to discover a garden—letting it reveal itself slowly, without expectation.

Set quietly in the chalky folds of the North Yorkshire Wolds, it doesn’t announce itself from the road, but that only adds to its quiet allure.

I seemed to wind my way off the beaten track for miles, passing through a patchwork of agricultural fields and quiet countryside, before finally arriving at the garden—tucked at the heart of a working family farm behind a huge windbreak of trees.

Jackson's Wold is a farm growing mostly potatoes, stretching far and wide, but at its heart, hidden just behind the trees, lies a stunning series of garden rooms—quiet pockets of beauty that flow seamlessly into one another - stunning in their simplicity and grace.

I’d visited to see the roses, so the garden rooms came as a delightful surprise. The owners guided us through each space, revealing the rich history, careful planning, and delicate intentions woven into every detail.

We began in the woodland garden, where the trees shelter the house and its surroundings from the steady, strong winds.

The woodland paths meander gently into the kitchen garden, where a beautiful buxus parterre unfolds, guiding the eye toward a charming greenhouse that stands as the garden’s quiet focal point beyond.

The kitchen garden was full of vegetables, protected by netting, held up on simple posts, crowned with terracotta pots. Among them, a few old roses lingered—soft and weathered, quietly adding their charm to the scene.

When I returned home and read more about the garden, I discovered that the kitchen garden’s design was influenced by Rosemary Verey’s potager at Barnsley House—a beautiful reminder of how gardens can carry stories and inspirations across time and place.

Next, we moved into the meadow, lined with lime trees. Their branches arched lightly overhead, guiding the eye toward a weathered bench at the far end, perfectly positioned to take in the sweeping view of the landscape beyond.

We wandered through the meadow and a charming little plant nursery, its tables dotted with promising young perennials, before arriving at a quiet gravelled area tucked behind the farmhouse. It was one of those unexpectedly lovely spaces — simple, but full of quiet intent.

Neatly clipped balls of Buxus and Taxus baccata had been thoughtfully arranged among weathered fragments of ancient stone, each piece steeped in local history. There was a calm, timeless beauty to it all. I knew at once it was an idea I would carry home — a vision for reimagining my own gravel driveway with a similar sense of restraint and grace.

Beside the farm house a gravelled Courtyard offers a quiet but composed space. At its centre, a round stone pond with a gently bubbling fountain creates a calm focal point. A short flight of steps leads up to it, adding just enough formality to anchor the layout.

Billowing drifts of Nepeta softened the edges, their cool purple tones contrasting beautifully with the sun-warmed brick walls. The planting was loose but deliberate, with texture and movement playing a greater role than colour alone. It was a restrained, thoughtful space — designed as much for pause as for passage.

Beautiful as the Courtyard was, what really caught my attention was a small wooden ramp built into the pond, designed to help frogs and other small mammals escape the water easily. When I asked the owner about it, he explained it was a thoughtful solution inspired by Scampston Walled Garden, not far away. It’s a subtle yet clever detail — yet another idea to consider for my own modest garden pond.

Leaving the courtyard, we moved to the front of the farmhouse, where the paving was casually peppered with Achillea mollis and Campanula, allowed to seed naturally in whatever crevices suited them best. A beautiful old variegated rose climbed nearby, its subtle foliage a gentle foil to a stunning pink fuchsia that caught my eye—and, I confess, one I couldn’t resist returning to the nursery to purchase for my own garden at home. This is Fuschia 'White Knight's Blush'.

The paving led on to a more formal lawn, enclosed on either side by generously planted herbaceous borders. These were full of colour, texture, and movement, clearly laid out with a confident yet relaxed hand. Beyond them, a backdrop of tall trees provided structure and shelter, giving the whole space a sense of calm enclosure — a garden that knows how to frame its views as well as its planting.

At the end of our tour we reached the stunning Walled Rose Garden - the jewel in the crown of Jackson's Wold. Once a working farmyard, it has been transformed by owners Richard and Sarah into a classic English rose garden: enclosed, structured, and filled with scent. Tall brick walls now shelter a space that feels both generous and considered, where the planting is abundant but never unruly.

The garden is laid out in three long, parallel borders, each devoted to a distinct palette: one white, one soft yellow, and one a blend of pinks and mauves. This quiet rhythm of colour brings order to the abundance, drawing the eye naturally along the space. At the far end, an old farm barn provides both shelter and backdrop, its walls softened by climbing roses in full bloom. My favourite was Rosa 'Ghislaine De Feligonde'. Nestled among the borders are simple seating areas — just the right spots to sit and take it all in — and a striking greenhouse that adds both structure and charm to the space.

We lingered over a leisurely lunch in the garden before the time came to bid farewell. Jackson’s Wold is a beautifully conceived garden, its flowing design and confident planting creating a sense of ease and generosity throughout. But for me, it was the walled rose garden that left the deepest impression — a space of such character and quiet beauty that I find myself already hoping to return one day.

Garden Writer | Guineveres Garden