Naomi Slade is enjoying a time of quiet contemplation on her plot
Despite the cold and wet, it's wonderful to just sit in the plot, reflect and enjoy the silence
It can be really difficult to get into the garden at this time of year. There’s precious li le light to be had, and what there is fades fast. For this brief spell, at least, when all is so very bright and merry indoors, it seems that the garden can be left on its damp lonesome; dead plants gently mouldering, spring not yet in sight.
Yet, for me, the garden is no less an escape at this time of year as any other. It can be a relief to nip outdoors with the excuse of pu ing the sprout peelings in the compost bin, shut the door firmly behind me, and take a few deep breaths of cool air in the relative silence.
After all, what’s a garden really for? It’s something we care for, to a greater or lesser extent, all year round. It’s a canvas for our dreams and aspirations. And a retreat in which to po er, tinker and experiment, a personal, green outdoor laboratory. To be sure, all gardens come with their challenges of climate, soil, pests and diseases. We can do nothing to change aspect or altitude.
And it can sometimes seem like they’re being deliberately perverse or cantankerous. The slugs are demolishing the le uce and dahlias just to spite us and the drainage situation has something against salvias. Yet it can also be a bit like having a secret friend, a space that you connect with in a fundamental way; that wraps its arms around you when the whole world seems crazy and out of control.
Gardens are well known for an ability to heal, making physical and mental scars more manageable and life seem more liveable – but we don’t need to be broken to benefit.
So, I’m taking a li le time to connect with my tiny plot, despite the cold, damp and dark. To consider the successes of the year and dream of my ambitions for it in the year to come. I’ll even light a li le fire and sit quietly to muse, meditate and take it all in.
There is a kind of deeprooted sense in all this. A winter festival celebrating hope and light has existed since time immemorial, and humanity needs hope. We cherish our gardens and, in return, they take care of us in their own indefinable way, leaving us be er able to face whatever life throws at us and the exciting, challenging unknowns of the year ahead.