This month, Alan Titchmarsh discusses the changing seasons, and why he ventures out into his garden in any weather.
I’ve been talking to a number of people over these summer months and it’s always a pleasure. Naturally, it feels like the part of the year where we all come out and celebrate what it is to have a space that is all ours – we all share in the successes and, okay, some of the failures too!
Yet what’s interesting is the fact the longer the summer goes on, the more the chat seems to evolve to become nervy and negative. There is an unspoken devil in the air, and it goes by the name of winter, where gardeners all across the UK dread not just the hibernation of some of the creatures in their garden, but their own removal or withdrawal from service as This month, Alan Titchmarsh discusses the changing seasons, and why he ventures out into his garden in any weather. Greenfingers… The Alan Titchmarsh Column the skies grow darker and rain threatens.
Of course, I can see why so many of us sink into this mindset of what is effectively a subconscious filling of time before things start to pick up again in early spring. Though as I have said on many occasions, there are still so many plants that flourish across the winter months that we can take real pleasure from, so I would be firm in encouraging people to look at winter as a lot more than just a time when we feel like stepping off the gardening carousel.
Certainly, my routine in those quieter months never changes. Whether rain, hail, sleet or snow, I will always potter around the garden. Okay, so in the winter months it’s a lot more difficult to sit still in a garden anyway, but just getting out there, soaking up the air and feeling the natural goodness around you, is really inspiring.
I get mucky every day when I'm at home, and if I’ve got a day of work or filming that will take me away from the house, I’ll always make sure I step out and spend some peaceful time alone before I leave – it sort of sets me up for the day.
What I will say about late autumn and winter in the garden is its arrival follows much the same school of thought as going out in the rain – namely that it makes you appreciate the summer, or the sunshine, all the more.
As people, we are so used to conflict and contrast, and embracing that only serves to highlight the good stuff when it comes round.
Mostly, what I tell people about their gardens is that the most special feeling you can have will never be whether or not you can produce some floral spray of colour and texture; nor will it be if your water feature resembles something like the Victoria Falls.
Ultimately, what it’s all about is being out there, and believing you are making a difference. I've always thought however tiny a patch of ground you have, if you look after it well when you shuffle off your mortal coil you've paid your rent for your life on Earth.
To leave that space just a little bit better than how it was previously is a very special thing, and no wintry rainstorm should stop us from wanting to achieve that!