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I have driven past this garden more times than I care to remember, without ever realising that it was actually there. This truly is a "Secret Garden" to me, and it is someplace that I feel almost too selfish to share. It was once the garden to a huge house located high up in the hills above a beautiful valley, but the house was demolished many years ago and only the garden remains. The garden was built well away from the house, designed to be a working garden, which was tucked away from view.   Now it stands quite alone, in the middle of fields, surrounded by a beautiful stone wall. Time has stood still in this garden for many years, and although it is being slowly coaxed back to life, this is the perfectly imperfect garden, to me, in many ways. As I approached the old iron gate and walked into the garden, it drew and enveloped me with its magic, its potential and its neglect. What draws me to this garden is the way in which it has been left to nature, neglected and uncared for over many years.  At one time a team of gardeners would have worked for hours every day growing flowers, fruit, and vegetables for the house.  This working walled garden would have run like clockwork and been in a tip top shape. This magical place is just as much about what is going on now, in the present,  as what has happened in the past.  Relics of the past are scattered all around the garden and progress for the future is clear to see as well.   It feels as if those men and women gardeners of days gone by simply shut the garden gate and let time stand still until now.  In some ways it is sad to see the neglect, but in other ways you have a fascinating glimpse into another era, and that is what I love about this very special place. The garden is on a moderate slope, and so is made up of a series of soil terraces, which are held back with dry stone walls.  The whole garden is enclosed with dry stone walls of around eight to ten feet in height.  This makes it feel quite special, as it is completely different to the well-known brick walled Victorian kitchen gardens. There is a very relaxed feel, and due to the location and low height of the walls, the whole garden fits perfectly into its position, and borrows from the rolling hills and trees around it, many of which can be viewed from the garden. The terraces are being filled with fruits, flowers and vegetables, but this is a work in progress, and it seems to be a battle between making progress and the garden taking itself back to the past.  There are areas of neglect, and it seems a lack of labour prevents the garden from reaching perfection. When this was a working garden, a whole team would nurture and work on the land.  Now the garden relies on just a handful of helpers and volunteers, and there is repair work as well as gardening to be dealt with, so it is a huge task, and I am sure a labour of love. There are several growing beds in the garden, each on its own terrace, and some edged with stone.  Large metal frames sit over some of the beds, and plants seem to be grown quite randomly rather than within some fixed scheme. Although there was an overall feeling of balance between progress and neglect, there were nevertheless some beautiful plants - some self-seeded around the edges, and others obviously planted and tended to. As I entered the garden a gorgeous coral coloured  Papaver somniferum  (Carnation Poppy) caught my eye, standing boldly upright, and contrasting against the dark and dry soil.  This was joined by a bright and beautiful yellow coloured  Rudbeckia hirta  (Brown Betty), which was eye catching in the afternoon sun. There are pockets of  Chrysanthemum leucanthemum  (Ox-Eye Daisy) all over the garden, and towards the bottom of the garden they frame stone steps leading out through a doorway to the field beyond.  There, beautiful plants swayed in the breeze and gave a wild feel to the garden. There are many self-seeders too, just sneaking into cracks in the walls, or a space where they feel just perfect to put down their roots and grow.  These added a certain charm to the garden and included the common  Digitalis purpurea  (Foxglove) and the bright yellow  Eschschoizia californica  (California Poppy). Amongst the flowers, terraces and steps, garden tools and hand machinery were scattered randomly.  It seemed as if the gardeners had temporarily left them, whilst interrupted in work, and would soon return to continue their labours.  No modern tools here - all beautifully crafted tools of the past. Other interesting plants I found were  Verbascum ,  Aquilegia vulgaris  (Granny's Bonnet) in a stunning shade of purple (variety unknown), as well as  Cephalanria gigantea  (Giant scabious), which towered over the other plants in a stunning yellow colour against the dry stone wall. As well as the odd rake, watering can and roller, there were many old benches spread throughout the garden, many of which were made from old iron work. Like the rest of the garden, these gave a feeling of grandeur which has aged, weathered and finally found a more easy going and peaceful pace.  The garden is now a labour of love, rather than a production line for the grand house. Perhaps my favorite plant of all was the beautiful light pink coloured  Astrantia major  (Masterwort), which was forming lots of clumps towards the bottom of the garden.  This plant looked fragile in its surroundings but happy in its place. At the bottom of the garden is a beautiful wooden gate, where you can enter the field beyond.  The gate is framed with ferns, and I expected to walk out into a woodland or something similar. Instead, perhaps the greatest delight of the garden was found beyond this gate - the most amazing stone potting shed which leads directly into a wooden greenhouse with a dry stone wall base. Beyond the wooden gate, there is also a small metal gate, which leads out to an ancient orchard area with many very old fruit trees.  This would have been a very productive fruit orchard for the house in days gone by. The potting shed was dark, gloomy, and very badly lit.  I stepped into it with some trepidation, expecting a wall of cobwebs to brush past my face.  It felt cold and uninviting and it was a shame that more had not been made of this beautiful place. Seeing an open door to the rear of the potting shed, and a glimmer of light, I walked quickly through, and was greeted by the most amazing site and, for me, the highlight of the garden.   The most wonderful wooden greenhouse with a beautiful stone base and sides.   Unexpected and completely delightful. I am not certain whether the greenhouse is a recent addition or was around many hundreds of years ago.  Either way, it is stunningly beautiful.  miles from the nearest road, at the bottom of a total hidden secret garden - this is perhaps the most secret find of all! The potting shed has huge stone slabs on the floor, but the greenhouse has a series of bricks laid out in a pattern on the floor with iron grates at intervals along its length. It has brick inner walls to support the planting benches, and dry-stone base walls with iron supports and wooden beams supporting the glass.  It was light and airy and just a work of art, but in a rustic way The paintwork was a gentle garden green colour,  and the greenhouse had a central door leading on into another section.  Beautiful old fashioned terracotta pots full of plants lined each side and it had the most wonderful feel to it. After exploring the greenhouse and potting shed, you leave this area behind, walking back through the gate in the wall and back to the lower terraces of the garden. All the terraces have grass paths which at this time of year, had been scorched by the sun. As I walked back up the terraces, there was another beautiful stone building which had been built, up against the walls of the garden.  There was a beautiful wood carved owl standing guard outside! This is the most amazing gardeners retreat.  Full of old fashioned tools and shelves for plant pots. However, the most beautiful part of this small stone place is the working fireplace built into the wall.   This would be somewhere the gardeners could keep warm during the day, especially in the cold of winter, as the garden is quite high up in the hills. There are other artsy like structures too.  Many of the supports in the garden are iron but on the top path there is a plant arch made out of foraged wood.  It is higgledy piggledy in form, but fits in perfectly with the Wizard sculpture carved out of the decaying remains of a tree. Once the plants grow up the crooked supports,  and spill out over the top of this unusual structure, it will be very magical indeed. Sadly my tour of this beautiful garden came to an end.  I reached the iron gate, set in stone, at the top of the garden.  The gate opened outwards into the lane, and I was reluctant to leave. I had no idea how much this garden would touch me, and remain with me long after my visit.  Until only a few days before, I had no knowledge of its existence,  and now it had left its mark on me forever.   I walked reluctantly through the gate, and out into the grass lane, leaving the walled garden behind me.   As I walked along the lane, I imagined how many people had taken those steps before me.  Many doing a hard and manual job running a well ordered garden, for the demands of a huge mansion of a house which no longer exists. I'm sure this garden touched all of those who entered before - just as it has me.

Levens Hall, and it's ancient topiary garden, has been on my garden visit wish list for many years. I had seen many pictures of it's quirky topiary, and read lots about the garden, but nothing can replace the excitement of seeing a garden in person, and in particular for the first time, which is very special indeed. This is the oldest topiary garden in the world, and is home to well over 100 topiary shapes, some of which date back over 300 years.  Not only is the garden spectacular but, there is also Levens Hall itself, which is equally stunning in it's own right. It is very unusual to find a garden that has not changed dramatically over time, and been preserved for so many years.  Levens is very unique in this respect, for several reasons. Once owned by a singular family, the house would remain with that family, and be passed down, for very many years.  Often the family member who inherited, had their own "main" residence, and so Levens was left, in many respects, to the care of the gardeners. Finally, the gardeners at Levens seemed to remain loyal and stay at the garden for many years.  For some of the gardeners, Levens has been their life time position and work, which really is quite incredible and a testament to the draw and importance in gardening that Levens has, even to this day. The gardener who initially set out Levens, for Colonel Grahme, who became owner of  the house in 1689,  was Guillaume Beaumont.  Guillaume Beaumont had a wealth of experience, having worked for the King of England as well as having connections to the Palace of Versailles. Not only that, as Colonel Grahme was absent whilst much of the intial garden work was carried out, there was a wealth of correspondence about the garden progress between the two men. Much of this correspondence remains at Levens Hall, which has enabled a lot of the history to be traced. I visited on an early Autumn day when the air was crisp, but the sun was warm with only a few clouds in the sky.  It was perfect.  On first entering the garden, there is no topiary in sight, and it's only as you walk alongside the house and enter through a side gate, that the myriad of quirky shapes comes in to sight.  This garden is breathtaking - a living history which really does make a lasting impression on one's mind.   I was in for quite a surprise.  As well as topiary the garden contained many more separate garden rooms.  There is a rose garden, an orchard and bee garden, bowling green and borders, fountain garden, ha-ha, vegetable garden, nuttery and herb garden, plus deer park.  This really is a garden that keeps on giving.  There was almost too much to take in and I realised that I would need to return. Close to the house itself, I found a rather spectacular specimen of  Cynara   scolymus, otherwise known as Globe Artichoke.  This was stunning against the backdrop of the house wall, and was a truly architectural feature which couldn't help but catch the eye.  This worked well as further out into the garden, the planting around the topiary was more relaxed and informal giving a stunning contrast between the two. The border along the house was just an initial introduction to the garden, as once you entered and walked along this border, you couldn't help but take in the multitude of topiary features that greeted you.  I felt overwhelmed, excited and just astounded by the sheer magnitude of it all. There was all manner of topiary set out before me.  Top hats, birds, crowns...you name it.....just far too much for the eye to take in and comprehend. In fact, it was only after I left the garden, and contemplated, that I realised how amazingly special this experience had been - and that was only the topiary garden! What really struck me about the topiary at Levens was the contrast.  There is contrast between the tall Taxus baccata Yew topiary shapes, and then the lower Buxus , box   shapes as well as the row upon row of Buxus edging. Between all this, is gravel and grass paths which give contrasting colours, and so set off the topiary perfectly. Within the low Buxus edging are herbaceous plants with a romantic and wild feel to them which, really adds to the effect, so that it's all just quite wonderful. There are many shades of topiary, from a very dark and deep green, to a bright and light yellowed hue.  These colours are set off by an expanse of lawn, split up by the gravel paths and then the landscape and parkland beyond. On many pieces of topiary, the crown of the plant has been lifted, leaving an expanse of beautiful, and often gnarled and eye-catching tree trunk.  Often a bench has been placed beneath, so that visitors can take a break, to just sit and take in the essence of the place. In many topiary gardens, everything seems orderly, precision cut and perfectly lined up.  At Levens, the topiary is quirky, often top heavy, falling over itself, and rather topsy turvy in nature. This perfectly imperfect impression really does endear you to the place, especially when set off against the backdrop of the ancient Hall itself. In the borders surrounding the topiary, enclosed by low level Buxus hedges, there is a multitude of colour contrasting plants.  During my visit, the beautiful  Ageratum houstonianum  or Mexican Paintbrush plant, made for a very eye catching display. It had amazing fluffy lilac blue flowers which last well into the Autumn. Many of the herbaceous and annuals mixed into the topiary garden were in drifts of just one plant.  However, in some areas there was a mix of colour combinations. I particularly liked the deep pink Cosmos bipinnatus and purple Verbena bonariensis,  which complemented each other perfectly. Another almost structural annual, which had been used in both a white and pink colour, was Cleome hassleriana the Spider Flower.  The flowers of this plant really stood out and grabbed my attention in the rest of the border, and I am sure that later on in the Autumn their long seed pods would be quite eye catching as well. All the form and structure of this garden is living in nature - the hedges and the topiary give the garden it's backbone, but this is interspersed with some very structural type annuals and herbaceous plants, which come and go as the season progresses. There is both repetition as well as interspersed planting, and this is quite an achievement.  Little can be done with the 300 year topiary, other than to nuture and care for it.  Experimentation and fun happens with the planting all around at Levens. Parts of the borders show a romantic abandonment of thick and quite tall planting, whereas other parts are rigid and formal, yet with an artistically quirky twist. It really is quite magical place to see. It's not just the flowers, colour and shapes that make this garden, but also some more unusual aspects, such as the gnarled and twisted stems and branches that make up the form of the plants which are rather eye catching to see. It's incredible that most of Levens Hall gardeners have made this place their life vocation and stayed for many, many years. After only visiting for a day, Levens had cast its spell on me.  It draws you in and, when you have to leave, it imprints itself on your mind and leaves a lasting impression. I will be back before long to this magical place, as there is so much more to see.

I've been privileged to receive an invite to this private Kitchen and Cutting Garden in Sussex, on two occasions now. My first visit was in April whilst the tulipa  were in full swing. I was very excited to visit once more during early Summer when the garden had really come to life as you can see. I love to re-visit gardens at different times of year as they can take on a completely different feel and appearance as the plants ebb and flow through the seasons. A garden is an ever changing and complex piece of art - never the same and always something new to see. The walled garden is entered by a gravel path which winds it's way through beautiful Mediterranean style planting after which a gate leads into the garden itself. There is a lot going on in this garden from herbaceous planting interspersed with Rosa , to ancient fruit trees, vegetables, cut flowers, glass houses and a hidden sunken grass garden too. The garden flows together seamlessly but, behind the scenes, it's obvious there is a great deal of detailed planning and hard work going on. As you first enter the garden the impression is very much that of traditional Cottage Garden style.  Long expanses of Buxus hedge and ancient gnarled fruit trees greet you. There are fairly wide borders of Rosa and herbaceous plants which look beautiful set off against the stone wall backdrop and gravel pathways. Tucked away behind the garden walls you can glimpse the most beautiful dovecote which adds to the character and sense of place. Interspersed among the planting of the borders are specimen pieces of topiary which give the garden form in Winter but during Summer really set off some of the more eye-catching flowers. One of these flowers is the beautiful lilac pink Dahlia mercii which has stunning bright yellow stamen. As you wander further into the garden it becomes more utilitarian in nature.  There are many perfectly sized oak edged beds filled with all manner of fruits, vegetables and cutting flowers. This is a working garden producing an abundance of produce and blooms for the occupants of the nearby house. It was very special to be allowed to wander at will in their own private space. No expense has been spared and everything about this garden is understated perfection.  Natural staking is topped with terracotta pots so that netting can be thrown over the crops for protection.  However, everything has a very ordered and quality appearance whilst remaining very natural and blending into the surroundings.   There is a very subtle mix of old with new and everything is made and measured to fit perfectly into place being beautiful but also fit for the purpose it was made. The colour palette in this garden is stunning and although the colours seem to blend quite naturally, it's obvious that thought has been given to both colour and form. One combination that works really well is the pale purple flower of Salvia nemorosa combined with the seed heads of a Papaver orientale .  One plant is tall, narrow and slim, the other bulbous with seeds and the most beautiful star shaped top in two shades of green.  Nature is just stunning when you pause to look carefully and really understand what is going on. This beautiful garden uses a contrast of gravel and grass between the beds and borders.  Here you can see the  Linaria purpurea or purple toadflax loosely planted in the gravel and breaking up the formality of the buxus hedge. Another beautiful plant combination is the delicate pale pink flower of  Sidalcea campestris, also known as meadow checkerbloom and Salvia nemorosa, or balkan clary, which is upright with a lovely purple lilac hue. The Head Gardener is so talented and not afraid to experiment and try different colour palettes and plants.  Sometimes though the most beauiful of plant combinations can be down to nature itself. Everything works together in harmony within the garden walls.  New oak beds, yet to weather properly, contain annuals and vegetables and these are flanked by perfectly trained fruit trees and bushes. The fruit is grown to maximise production whilst also allowing easy access for picking.  Long runs of metal poles supported by weathered oak posts run the length of the vegetable beds and draw the eye. Every bit of space is used to a maximum in this garden and fruit is also grown alongside roses, and other climbers, on the old stone walls. Natural is of upmost importance to the gardeners and whereas skilled craftsmen have constructed beautiful oak planters, posts and planting beds, the gardeners have taken advantage of hazel and other wood to make wigwams to support many of the annuals within the garden. The skilled craftmanship and artisan structures complement each other well. At the far end of the garden are two of the most amazing greenhouses which house all manner of plant as well as being a cosy place to be in cold or wet weather and a great place for the propagation of seeds. Around the walls of the greenhouses Erigeron karvinskianus,  the mexican fleabane, has been allowed to self seed.  This plant always gives a sense of romantic abandon even though often very skillfully and carefully placed. The walled garden was an oasis where time seemed to stand still as I wandered and drank in its sounds and sights.  The plants were something to behold but birdsong and nature were equally important to hear and see.  It was a private place full of life and the hustle and bustle of the gardeners and their activity. As I stepped back through the gate into reality I entered another totally different space but with a very unusual feeling of tranquility.  This was the long pond garden which links the walled garden with the house itself. This was a place to reflect and gather thoughts before stepping back into my day to day world.  Before I turned to leave, I stood still for a few moments and looked at the very basics of nature before me - sky, water and the most beautiful of trees.  I was reluctant to leave but sure that I would make this place one to return to soon.

I've always felt that a garden should have a proper sense of entrance and exit, not necessarily a physical boundary but certainly a feeling within ones own mind. Something changes within my whole being when I enter a garden - there is a mixture of excitement and anticipation - sometimes I am surprised and delighted by what I find, other times disappointment can creep in. A garden can stir the emotions and mind and leave an impression which is sometimes difficult to forget. Stepping through the huge wooden gates in to this Paris garden felt like entering another completely different world. When entering the Courtyard a long and narrow cobbled path leads you between two buildings which give way to an open seating area shaded by mature trees through which sunlight filters through. All the city sounds fade away replaced by a deep sense of peace. The cobblestones are various shades, from grey to a bright salmon pink and all tone in with the patina of the buildings around them. Beautiful terracotta pots line the pathway filled with colourful and scented plants of all manner and kind. There are window boxes and trellis as well as areas planted with shrubs and quite mature trees. As the Courtyard opened up I was met with the most charming but simple tables and chairs. Painted in a subtle green colour this metal furniture had light pink cushions that blended in perfectly with the surroundings. Here you could sit and contemplate, listen to the birdsong, take in the fragrance and colour of the plants, whilst you read a book or had a glass of wine at the end of another Parisian day. This was a country house setting in the midst of a huge City and another place I would feel reluctant to share! This garden felt like a world set apart from City reality. Somewhere to switch off and connect with nature for an hour or so whatever the time of day. As the garden was mainly paved it made maximum use of the vertical surfaces and of containers. There were actually only a handful of plants but these were repeated throughout the garden, in a clever design, and this had the effect of pulling the garden together to amazing effect. Perhaps the most striking plant was the Hydrangea macrophylla (French Hydrangea) in a gorgeous pink colour. This was scattered throughout the garden in quite large terracotta pots. Rather than using a mix of colours just the one pink had been chosen and cleverly placed for maximum effect. Space really was at a premium and so use was made of the walls for climbing plants on trellis and also planters strategically placed on balconies. Many of the plants were green in colour giving a harmonious effect but different textures added to the interest and created an intimate feeling. Despite being surrounded by buildings there was privacy and you could just tuck yourself away. An interesting structural plant was the Chamaerops humilis (European Fan Fern) which was found in most of the wider planted beds at the end of the Courtyard. Its fan shaped leaves were spectacular giving a tropical and exotic feel. This was the perfect choice of plant as it is tough and undemanding but added interest and screening at the same time. Perhaps my favourite plant was Trachelospermum jasminoides (Star Jasmine) which could be found growing up walls and along trellis throughout the garden. The smell was sublime and the bright white colour just stunning against the deep green glossy leaves. There were also small Olea Europaea (Olive) trees in pots dotted around the garden. These were a nod to the history and connection of France with beautiful Olive groves where every village would have a link to the Olive tree. Simple as this Courtyard garden was I realised quite quickly that behind the surface was a cleverly thought out and planned design. This garden was a work of living art. The colour palette of the garden was simple but repetitive. It consisted of pink, purple and white flowers with a very small pop of coral in some of the window box planters. Green foliage was the backdrop but different shapes, shades and textures made the whole scheme work and gave a lovely contrast to the flowering plants. All the planters and window boxes had been kept to a simple repeated colour and design in a shade of terracotta. This was well thought out because it gave unity and a calm feeling to the Courtyard. I particularly liked the Lythrum virgatum (Loosestrife) which had been placed in pots to contrast beautifully with the Hydrangeas. For Paris, where space is at a premium, this was a very unusual garden. I felt blessed to have been able to spend several days, leaving each morning and returning each night to what became my own special sanctuary. One very successful textural plant was the Fatsia japonica (Paperplant). This gave some degree of cover, being evergreen, between the tree and floor canopy of the garden. It had the most beautiful glossy leaves and is shade tolerant so it thrived in the dappled light of the garden. Whilst enjoying all the Art that Paris has to offer in it's world famous galleries I realised that when you enter a garden you are stepping into a living and breathing work of art. Art was everywhere in this garden - the colour, the texture, the tone, the layers all carefully thought out and arranged to maximum effect. The beauty of a garden is that it is in many dimensions, it is ever changing from one season to the next. Most amazing of all is that you can walk around and explore this piece of art which really is very special. The garden gave me peace and a place to unwind. As I left for the last time through the huge and heavy courtyard gates I knew that yet again I had been touched by a very special garden place.

I began my working life in the Potteries area of Stoke on Trent, so that part of the world has always meant a great deal to me. Years later, I was delighted to discover that Arthur Parkinson had created a garden at the Emma Bridgewater Pottery in Stoke — a place I’ve long admired for its celebration of British craft. Back in 2018, Arthur penned a heartfelt book celebrating two of his enduring passions—hens and flowers—and the quiet joy of weaving them into the industrial rhythm of the pottery, all while cultivating a garden there. A recent visit to the factory and its garden, brought his story vividly to life, and it’s inspired me to return to the book—The Pottery Gardener by Arthur Parkinson - and to share my thoughts about it with you here. Arthur grew up in the North of England, surrounded from an early age by strong, nurturing women who inspired and encouraged his love of poultry and plants. It was his mother and grandmothers who first introduced him to the joys of the garden passing on their knowledge with care and enthusiasm. His love of poultry began with childhood hours spent watching hens at nearby allotments and on farm holidays in the Peak District. As he grew older, his interests were further shaped by the influential works of plantswoman Sarah Raven, whose vibrant approach to gardening captured his imagination. Equally formative were his childhood visits to Chatsworth House, where the Duchess of Devonshire’s renowned poultry collection left a lasting impression. Arthur opens the book with memories of this childhood shaped by nature, leading to a journey and commission in Stoke on Trent : creating a garden for The Emma Bridgewater Pottery. The book begins by detailing how Arthur set about creating his garden, which he describes as essentially container gardening on a grand scale. He installed large raised beds and used a variety of containers, including troughs and dolly tub-style planters of different sizes and shapes. Arthur places strong emphasis on the care of the garden’s most vital component — the soil — and offers in-depth guidance on how to maintain its health and fertility. The book then explores the rhythm of the garden through its three main seasons. Spring bursts into life with wallflowers and tulips, followed by the rich tapestry of Summer, featuring alliums, dahlias, and roses. In Autumn, the garden reaches a dramatic finale with a spectacular pumpkin display. Arthur favours bold, jewel-like colours throughout, creating a vibrant and theatrical atmosphere. Hens roam freely around the gravel paths adding a typicallly Arthur touch. The book is wonderful and feels incredibly real, largely because of the way Arthur writes—with genuine heart and passion for his work. He takes the time to describe many of the plants he chose for the garden in vivid detail, offering tips on how to care for them, grow them, and nurture them. He also shares his favourite varieties and colours, making you feel both informed and inspired. By the end of the book, I felt a garden like this was more than achievable myself. Arthur has a real flair for dramatic, architectural plants—the kind that make a bold statement and instantly catch the eye. They're not what I'd usually choose for my own garden, but the way he talks about them, with such passion and clarity, convinced me to give them a try. I’ve decided to experiment with globe artichokes, cardoons, and maybe even some ornamental grasses—plants he uses to great effect. The book is filled with beautiful images of these and other plants, as well as glimpses of his chickens, all photographed by Arthur himself. The book takes you through each season with a comprehensive checklist of tasks to tackle and when to do them. Arthur is generous with his knowledge, sharing his tried-and-tested methods to help you get the best out of each season’s planting. He also includes profiles of some of his favourite seasonal plants, paired with gorgeous photographs that truly inspire. His enthusiasm is infectious and made me want to put some of his ideas into practice in my own garden straight away. My favourite ideas from the book include some really unusual and striking sunflowers— Valentine , Vanilla Ice , and Claret —which add a fresh twist to the typical sunflower palette. I was also drawn to the wide variety of dahlias, with Mel’s Marmalade  standing out for me. It paired beautifully with the autumn pumpkin display that’s both described and photographed in the book. I also loved the section on tulips—both the planting ideas and Arthur’s beautiful photography. He goes for deep, jewel-toned varieties like Queen of the Night , Chato , Brown Sugar , Ballerina , and Jan Reus , which really look spectacular together. Teamed with wallflowers like Sunset Purple  and Sunset Pink , the combinations are stunning. Whether they’re planted in raised beds or layered as bulb lasagnes in galvanised dustbins and troughs, they look completely at home in the pottery garden’s industrial setting. Another thing I really love about the book is how seamlessly the garden connects to the pottery made and sold on-site. So many of Emma Bridgewater’s designs feature flowers and animals, and Arthur brings that to life beautifully—cutting blooms from the garden and displaying them in vases and flower pots from the collection, often choosing pieces that feature his much-loved hens. It’s wonderful to see all these threads—the factory, the pottery, the hens, Arthur’s life, and the garden—woven together into something that feels so personal and full of character.  It’s very subtly and cleverly done, and I get the sense that Arthur has a natural instinct for pulling all these elements together—almost without even thinking about it. Arthur left the factory in 2019, and as I write this in the summer of 2025, the garden he created is still very much alive. I’ve visited the factory many times over the years, and the garden continues to be lovingly cared for, bringing joy to everyone who stops by. My most recent visit was in summer, but now that I’ve reread the book, I’ll definitely be returning in spring and autumn to catch the tulips and pumpkins at their best. Arthur may have moved on, but his heart, soul, and ideas are still deeply rooted in the place. If you get the chance, I’d really encourage you to visit the factory and garden yourself—and, of course, to read the book. It’s full of inspiration, practical ideas, and Arthur’s unmistakable passion for growing. Whether you have a large plot or just a few pots, there’s something in it for everyone. Guineveres Garden | Garden Writer

I was really excited to visit the Cottage Herbery. The couple who had lovingly run it for nearly 40 years had only stepped away a few years ago, so getting the chance to be there felt like something truly special. It wasn’t just about seeing the place—it was about hearing their story, feeling the spirit of what they’d built, and soaking up even a little of the wisdom they’d gathered over a lifetime spent working with plants and sharing their passion. All set for an afternoon immersed in herbs, I was surprised—pleasantly so—to arrive and find a small field bursting with cut flowers and row upon row of Irises. It turned out this beautiful display was the work of India, the couple’s daughter, who now runs her own floral business. She’s developed a real passion for Iris breeding, with many of the striking varieties coming from the United States. It was an unexpected twist to the visit—and a lovely surprise. Kim and Rob ran the herb nursery for many years, travelling to plant fairs, giving talks, and even winning awards at the Chelsea Flower Show. So it was a real treat to hear them share stories about the history of the site. And while I’d come expecting herbs, what I discovered instead was something equally inspiring—the transformation of what had once been a rather plain and functional farmyard into a beautiful gravel garden. Listening to them talk about the process, with all its challenges and creativity, was fascinating. The farm itself once grew hops, and the rather industrial-looking structure in the yard had housed a hop-picking machine. Today, it’s been beautifully transformed. A garden now surrounds and softens the space, with glorious rambling roses weaving their way up the old framework. Their delicate blooms and graceful stems stand in striking contrast to the barn’s sturdy metal supports—a perfect blend of the past and present, where beauty and utility meet in the most unexpected way. It was fascinating to hear about the couple’s vision from the outset—the hard work they had put into clearing and planting the site, along with the thoughtful reasons behind their plant and design choices. What I especially appreciated was that they had undertaken all of this work themselves, with only occasional help from friends. The gravel garden featured a wide mix of perennials and annuals—some quite unusual, and others more familiar to me, such as Papaver , Lavandula , and Verbena bonariensis . Care had clearly been taken to ensure the planting looked beautiful from every angle, sitting perfectly within the space. The garden was further enhanced by a stunning backdrop of farm fields and distant trees. Whilst Kim described in detail how the planting had come about, Rob was equally enthusiastic in sharing how much wildlife had been attracted to the garden during its transformation. He was very observant, keeping a log of different bird species, and even had an interesting piece of equipment that could detect a variety of bats, many of which could now be seen around the garden. Although the garden wasn’t particularly large, it had three distinct sections. The outer area featured a gravel garden, while behind and extending into the barn were grass pathways and borders filled with perennials. A cloud-like Lonicera nitida  hedge cleverly framed different views throughout the space. There was even a natural-style swimming pool, beautifully integrated into the design and perfect for a dip when the weather allowed. What really struck me was Kim and Rob’s enthusiasm—and the passion they still had, even though they had stepped back from running the herbery itself. They kindly let us wander into the herb section of the garden, which consisted of a series of polytunnels and greenhouses packed with herbs and plants, many of which were for sale. There was also an amazing selection of books available, as they were trying to downsize their collection. I was thrilled to purchase one of the herb books that Kim had written herself—and felt especially lucky to have her sign it for me. For those of you who are interested the book is called "Herbs - The Secret Properties of 150 Plants". It was a beautiful afternoon, and the weather was perfect. I spent quite some time wandering through the herbs and exploring the various parts of the garden, realising that anything is possible in gardening if you have passion, vision, and the tenacity to see a project through. Here, what was once almost an industrial environment had been transformed into something truly beautiful—yet it still retained elements of its past, with some of the original structures thoughtfully preserved as a subtle nod to its history. In most gardens I visit, I usually take away a plant, a clever planting combination, or a new design idea. But this garden was very different. What I took away instead was a powerful sense of passion, drive, and commitment. The ability to hold a vision of what a place can become—regardless of where it starts—and to have the tenacity to see that vision through, was truly inspiring. The herbery and its garden served as a reminder of what I should keep in mind as I continue to restore my own garden, which was quite neglected at the outset. Holding on to that sense of vision, passion, and perseverance feels all the more important now. Guineveres Garden | Garden Writer

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

A visit to Ninfa was high on my garden visit wish list. Anticipation was high as Ninfa, nestling dreamily at the foot of the Lepini mountains in Lazio (Italy), embraced by the hauntingly beautiful ruins of a medieval village, has been called the most romantic garden in the world. I arrived at Ninfa during a perfectly idyllic afternoon - golden sunshine caressing the ancient stones, a gentle breeze whispering through the trees, hang gliders soaring against the majestic mountain backdrop, and a lone bird of prey circling elegantly in the blue sky above. The setting was spectacular, and as I meandered through the garden behind my knowledgeable guide, I was thankful for the rare privilege of experiencing this exquisite, centuries old sanctuary full of stunning roses and profound history. Our visit was in early May, that magical window when the roses unveil themselves in their full splendour and their petals are unfurled in perfect bloom. As a complete rose novice, I found myself captivated by this living gallery - each variety revealing its unique character through delicate hue, architectural form or intoxicating fragrance. I wandered the paths with purpose, mentally cataloguing inspirations that might transform the modest borders of my own garden at home. The roses were cascading dramatically from ancient, ruined towers and gnarled trees, scrambling along crumbling archways and dangling precariously over crystal clear waters in which their silhouettes were perfectly reflected.   The structure, form and planting of the garden functioned in perfect harmony, and according to our guide, botanical principles and historical considerations govern every aspect of the gardens’ arrangement. Ninfa is named after a temple dedicated to sacred nymphs in the first century, the foundations of which have been discovered beneath the waters of Ninfa's man-made lake, creating a mystical connection between the past and present in this dreamy landscape. After experiencing a tumultuous past, Ninfa was ultimately deserted following its pillage and devastation in 1382. Never completely restored, the site was finally abandoned by its last residents because of expanding wetlands and disease. For centuries, Ninfa remained dormant and forgotten. The Caetani family, who owned the land, eventually began restoring the area in the late 19th century, focusing on creating the Giardino di Ninfa, which stands as an amazing testament to their vision and dedication.     In 1921 Ninfa passed into the hands of Prince Gelasio Caetani, who applied his engineering expertise to revitalize the estate. He meticulously restored and cleared the ancient walls, stabilized the riverbanks, and enhanced the lake and water systems throughout the grounds. Though horticulture was not his principal interest, Prince Caetani highly valued seclusion, which led him to establish many of the magnificent trees that now define the landscape. However it was the "Ladies of Ninfa" who planted the roses - Ada, Marguerite and Leila - grandmother, mother and daughter. Roses were first introduced to Ninfa by Prince Gelasio's English mother, Ada Constance Bootle-Wilbraham, who recognized that the rich soils would nurture these elegant blooms. She cultivated primarily Teas and Noisettes, but also strategically positioned roses against the ancient walls where they could intertwine with the ivy, their vibrant petals creating a stunning contrast against the lush evergreen backdrop. Ada planted Rosa moschata , ‘Alister Stella Grey’, ‘Madame Alfred Carriere’, ‘Marechal Niel’ and ‘General Schiablikine’.  She carefully transplanted cuttings from the rose bushes flourishing in her other garden at Fogliana, with historical records suggesting these elegant varieties were initially imported from England. After Gelasio’s death, his sister-in-law, Marguerite, Duchess of Sermoneta continued planting roses at Ninfa.  Marguerite planted ‘Mermaid’, ‘Reve d’Or’, ’Allen Chandler’, Rosa x anemonoides , ‘Francois Juranvile’, ‘Madame Laurette Messimy’, ‘Cramoisi Superieur’, ‘Zephirine Droubhin’, Rosa odorata , Rosa cooperi , ‘Fortune’s Double Yellow’, Rosa roxburghii ‘Plena’ and Rosa chinensis  ‘Mutabilis’. In around 1950 Marguerite’s daughter, Princess Leila an artist and plant lover continued the traditions of planting roses in the garden. Leila chose ‘Buff Beauty’, ‘Cornelia’, ‘Vanity’, ‘Moonlight’, ‘La Follette’, ‘Belle of Portugal’, ‘Ramona’, Rosa laevigata , Rosa bracteata , ‘Canary Bird’, ‘Hamburger’, ‘Phoenix’, ‘Kassel’ and ‘Nymphenburg’ There are over 200 varieties of Rose at Ninfa but the one which captivated me was Rosa  ‘Agripinna’ a stunning cherry red rose with a mild raspberry fragrance, which was gracefully climbing a tree beside the lake, its vibrant colour creating a striking contrast against the tranquil water. Via some research, I discovered that this particular rose was introduced in France by Jean-Baptiste Paillet in 1834 under the name 'Cramoisi Superieur'. It was among the roses Marguerite had brought to the garden. I felt a thrill at establishing this connection to the past, though I'll defer to the experts for confirmation of my identification. My visit to Ninfa followed a predetermined route, with our attentive guide ensuring we remained on the designated pathways, limiting opportunities for independent exploration. Nevertheless, I felt a sense of exclusivity as we appeared to be the sole visitors that afternoon, affording us precious moments to linger, immerse ourselves in the enchanting atmosphere, and capture stunning photographs. Ninfa has cast its spell on me, and already I find myself wanting to return someday. For those interested in exploring Ninfa in greater depth – its rich history, fascinating people, notable connections, diverse plant life and of course, the roses – I recommend reading the following books. “The Garden of Ninfa” – by Marella Caracciolo and Giuppi Piertromarchi “Ninfa – The Most Romantic Garden in the World” – by Charles Quest-Ritson Guineveres Garden | Garden Writer

High Glanau Manor was the house of Henry Avray Tipping who was born in France in 1855. He was a writer on houses and gardens, a garden designer and Architectural Editor of the Country Life Magazine for many years. Tipping wrote several books including "Gardens Old and New" and he also owned and lived in several properties during his life. In Monmouthshire he designed his own gardens at, Mathern Palace, Mounton House and High Glanau Manor which is now the home of Helena Gerrish. Helena Gerrish has restored High Glanau gardens back to the original Tipping design. She gained an MA in Garden History at Bristol University and has also written two books, "Edwardian Country Life; The Story of H. Aray Tipping" and "Mounton House: The Birth and Rebirth of an Edwardian Country Home". When I visited High Glanau gardens I had very little knowledge of it's background and I was not aware of the books. Now both books are on my Garden Library wish list and I am hoping that I will be able to return to the garden with the benefit of my new found knowledge. On the day I visited there were very heavy rain showers and when we arrived Helena welcomed our group into her home and then proceeded to tell us a little of the history of the house and gardens. Without Helena most of the garden history could have been lost forever. The long herbaceous borders had disappeared, the greenhouse was abandoned and many parts of the garden had become overgrown. Helena set about to restore the gardens herself by studying gardening and garden design, researching past articles and images relating to the gardens and doing all of this with meticulous attention to detail. She really put her heart and soul into this work and I was touched to see that she even had a plaque installed in the garden to commemorate Tipping. At the time of my visit in late July the long herbaceous borders were in full bloom. The Hemerocallis or day lily were planted towards the front of the borders and repeated along its length. To the middle of the border was an eye catching white coloured Phlox , part of the Polemoniaceae plant family, and at the back of the border towered Foeniculum vulgare or the Common Fennel. The beautiful Argyranthemum frutescens also known as the Paris or Marguerite Daisy had been strategically planted along the length of the borders and blended in perfectly in height and colour - the gorgeous yellow centre of the flower matching with the orange shades of the Day Lillies. The long herbaceous borders are flanked on each side by a Taxus Baccatus English yew hedge with a back drop of very substantial sized and well established trees. Each end of the long borders has a focal point - away from the house is a beautiful wooden bench set against a stone wall and, at the other end of the border sits the house itself. A stone set of steps leads up onto a terrace which anchors the planting and gives a focal point drawing the eye back towards the house. At the far end of the borders a stone wall runs the length of the garden and separates off the greenhouse area as well as a sloping lawned area with beautiful view through a stone opening back to the house. The greenhouse has lots of pots containing Pelagoniums as well as a substantial number of tomato plants. These were in individual pots but staked well together with bamboo canes. The greenhouse was in a neglected state when Helena first arrived at High Glenau so it is wonderful to see that it has now become a working greenhouse once again. The greenhouse is 40 feet long and was built by Messenger and Co with beaver tail glass to ensure rainwater did not penetrate on to the wooden structure. From the back of the house there are a series of steps leading down to the Octagonal Pool which is a focal point and contains a fountain powered by a stream fed hydaulic ram. Beyond the Octagonal Pool the land falls away into a valley with far reaching views and many trees. There is a sweeping view of west Monmouthshire to the Brecon Beacons and the planting is such that it frames this view whilst also drawing your eyes back into the garden itself. As Helena says "Tipping created a secret world here and has left his mark in his own romantic way. We are lucky to be the custodians". High Glanau is a very special place and made even more interesting by Helena who has such a passion for the gardens that Tipping created. Guineveres Garden | Garden Writer