a space for healing, connection and growth
Out of office.
Time alone and time in nature helps us to unplug, do the maintenance and reboot.
I’m no longer a teacher but I still work on the structures of busy six week terms and a long summer vacation.
I have summer plans and will return rebooted (and with new stationery) in September.
Enjoy your Summer.
Slow down. Relax. Connect
This week I visited a country house hotel not far from home. Cute, isn’t it? Turn up as a patron and you are greeted by a magnificent wisteria, (which still had some blooms) and a vintage milk float repurposed as a plant stand. There’s plenty of space to relax on the terrace, some smart and comfortable rooms and beautiful gardens. Upon entering the property and negotiating the driveway I nipped round the back and used the tradesman’s entrance, which is a little less picturesque. It’s the ‘engine room’/storeroom for the business.
We all have one, don’t we? A curated facade which shows us at our best and a slightly less polished version we don’t show to everyone.
In my line of work I count myself fortunate that I get to use the tradesman’s entrance most of the time. When people come to therapy, they rarely have the energy for a carefully curated first impression. What a privilege to be allowed to see the messy, broken, neglected or unfinished areas of a person and to be invited in to work with them on a restoration or repair. They even manage an upgrade.
As a society we seem ever more assiduous in the way we present ourselves, particularly online. And it’s fast becoming a significant source of stress and anxiety. This is particularly damaging to young people who are still developing their sense of self and identity. It’s about time we normalised the reality of life in all its wild, haphazard, messy, ebb and flow. That’s how we’ll make genuine connections, be our authentic selves, grow and evolve in a meaningful way. It’s being human. And it’s the sustainable path to improvement.
And as for my work visit, the gardener was weeding along the driveway when I left. What’s a girl to do? Stop and have a chat about the best way to prune wisteria of course.
I must confess I do not know where this is but a friend sent it to me with a note which said “saw this and thought of you.” It’s no surprise that a patch of land where flowers grow is my happy place. I wonder what it is about a flower field or a garden that feels so right and gives me such a sense of place? I guess it’s forging a link back to my agricultural roots and life in a rural community. And it’s no secret that being outside with your hands in the soil is the best place to be for your wellbeing, both physical and emotional.
When we were looking for a forever home we moved from London to a village in West Wiltshire. When our third child was born and we needed more space for less money we had to move into a nearby town. The sense of grief and loss I felt being plucked from the community I loved was a bit of a shock and one which it took a ridiculous amount of time to process. Here in the town I set about planting a garden to recreate what I’d lost. It’s an activity which is shared by many of my bereaved clients, who discover (or rediscover) gardening as a means to heal and create the stability in their lives which has been fractured. It’s creative, sensory and meaningful, particularly as it allows you to gently process memories of what or who you’ve lost or to honour them.
The mindful act of weeding a small patch; closing the loop by placing the debris of plants which have reached the end of their lives on the compost heap to provide nourishment for next year’s crop; the hope of preparing a bed for Spring sowing; the simple, repetitive nature of pricking out seedlings. All these activities promote healing and connection. My garden provided me with the sense of place I’d lost when moving out of the village. In essence, a sense of place is not just about physical location; it’s about the complex relationship between people and their environment, shaping their identity, well-being, and community interactions.
My garden gives me my identity, an opportunity to shape my environment, provide for my family, share with my neighbours, connect with my community and honour my roots. At present it’s at the back of a fairly nondescript 1930s semi on the outskirts of a town. Perhaps in the future it will be in a field with a view.
Not unlike the one pictured here.
Seeing this pic from Oxfordshire gardener Petra Hoyer-Miller yesterday of cuttings from her Sambucus Niger ‘Black Beauty’ reminded me that I had popped one in my basket at a well-known online nursery recently but not completed the purchase. Their secure payment system had glitched and I forgot about it. I’d better put that right. Looking around my garden in June is a bit of a mixed blessing. There are gaps where things have gone over and it’s time for a bit of a refresh and I have just the spot for one of these to create another purple patch.
The garden changes colour through the seasons. In Spring there are splashes of white and yellow, moving through to pinks in early Summer before the jewel colours of late Summer and Autumn have their time. But there is always a splash of purple somewhere. Blues and purples are attractive to pollinators and with a little planning it is possible to provide food for pollinators all year round.
The deep purple foliage of my acer and smokebush are staples; the photinia, cornus and mahonia have their moments of crimson; even in the depths of winter the ivy’s purple berries can be spied from the kitchen window. I’ve purple dahlias grown from cuttings from my mother’s garden and purple roses I planted in memory of my mother-in- law, who loved purple.
If you want to plant a year round purple patch of your own, here are some of my top performers ….
Autumn – aster New England ‘Violetta’; chrysanthemum ‘Amiko Violet’
Winter – cyclamen; cornus; ivy; heather
Spring – crocus, violets, tulip ‘Negrita’, aquilegia ‘Early bird Purple Blue’; lilac; allium ‘Sensation’; foxgloves; dead nettle; Wisteria Bachybotrys Ikoyama Fuji; clematis ‘Amethyst Beauty’ ; lupins; roses ‘Rhapsody in Blue’; sweet rocket; camassia quamash ‘Orion’; scabious ‘ Butterfly Blue Beauty’
Summer – sweetpeas ‘Cupani’; lavender; Nepeta; Ceanothus; cosmos ‘Fizzy purple’; verbena bonariensis; Sylvia ‘Nachtvlinder’; cornflower ‘Black boy’; echinacea purpurea ‘ Magnus’; dahlia ‘Thomas Edison’
A purple patch in the garden is so versatile, looking spectacular against the yellow of narcissus, forsythia, laburnum or euonymus, deep orange germs, dahlias, sunflowers or calendula and in particular lime green zinnia and chrysanthemums.
Give it a go.
If I was to underscore this blogpost Abba’s ‘Slipping through my fingers” would be playing. I’ve just got back from a trip to York to collect my daughter for the last time from university. I’ll miss the regular trips across the Cotswolds and up the M1 and I’ll miss York. In the last three years I’ve enjoyed living vicariously in the York streets and running routes as they’ve been posted up on Insta and Strava. I’ve also relished being a tourist once a year on our visits. It’s a great city with history, amazing places to visit and a thriving cafe culture. It’s also a long way to go so perhaps all the more meaningful that I can’t pop there very often. Maybe I’ll take Country Gate’s pop-up counselling sessions on tour next year?
For those of you who are heading to York, shout out here to Tobanco by Ambiente where we had the most delicious veggie tapas and friendly service on Tuesday evening and Heppni Bakeri, described by its owner India Luck as ‘a warm hug’. She’s right, it is. I’ve been keeping an eye on them since they opened last year. You know me, I love a Nordik-inspired cafe and this one has delicious coffee and a range of interesting and delicious pastries. Sadly the Paddington (homemade orange marmalade, almond frangipane, glazed with juicy orange syrup) wasn’t on the menu when we breakfasted there on Wednesday but the apricot and rosemary alternative I chose was amazing. It also has a run club – useful to work off the calories – and is popular with locals and tourists alike. If ever Ms Knight wants to open a branch down south, I hope she heads to Bath. I’d be champing at the bit to meet with clients in a quiet corner after a morning working in the garden or walking in nature.
Fresh air and food is a winning combination and what better way to do it than by growing your own. We wandered past one of the beds planted up by Edible York, a charity set up to support the people of York to become closer to the food they eat. Any opportunity to run gardening clubs in schools, plant up city centre beds with edibles, establish community orchards and support groups to develop their own edible spaces has to be a good thing. I love their ‘abundance’ project, taking fruit that would otherwise be wasted and putting it to good use. In fact, take a look. I love it all.
As well as the product (low-cost food for city folk), the process of community gardening provides numerous opportunities to improve the health of locals and the environment. The combination of physical activity, being in nature, working together with others, creativity, learning new skills, connection to and improvement of your immediate environment and access to fresh, healthy, and affordable produce is a winner. Every town and city should do it but it takes an army of committed volunteers to make it a reality and keep it going year after year.
Over the years I’ve seen a number of community gardening projects fall by the wayside because the ideas haven’t been fully embedded into their communities. Even in Bradford on Avon, which is pretty forward-thinking in terms of sustainability it ebbs and flows. GROW Bradford set up during the pandemic to encourage people to garden, haven’t posted anything on their Insta account since 2021 but we have a community orchard, seed and plant swap stations and some fabulous beds at the railway station maintained by volunteers. When gardening in the community it pays to consider the sustainability of any projects you start; planting perennials which require less maintenance or orchards which need intensive work but only at certain times of year might be the way forward if you have fewer volunteers. There are a couple of initiatives local to me which make use of host gardens for community gardening activities – which have all of the benefits of working together on horticultural projects with none of the liabilities. The hosts are fully invested in their growing spaces, the gardens are secure but the hosts need help to keep them well-maintained. Those who volunteer in the host garden learn new skills, make new connections and get all the benefits of working in a garden – physical , stress-busting activity, fresh air, connection and free plants and produce.
Edible York is clearly on top of its game – the city beds are well-maintained even though the bed pictured above is twelve years old. What’s going on in your neck of the woods?
This is a picture of the ‘ controversial’ green wall in the middle of Bradford on Avon. Initiated and funded by the town council and installed by the company who also did the installation at Spurs football stadium. It beautifies what was once termed ” the ugliest wall in Wiltshire;” it also reduces pollution and the temperature in a very congested old town. Controversial at the time of installation because a significant number of comments suggested that money could be better spent elsewhere. I’m 100% sure that investing in green spaces is the number one way we can future-proof the planet and our own mental health. In business terms I have always been an early adopter; it’s in my psyche. Not an influencer but someone who sees the wisdom of an idea and quietly works behind the scenes to help make it happen.
The story of this week has been one of visiting local green spaces (virtually as well as in person) to see if they might work as pop-up locations for counselling in the future. Knowing how difficult it is for anyone who needs affordable counselling to access it-because of waiting lists, cost and the difficulty of actually picking up the phone or walking through the door, I want to take a walk-in service out into the community, to the places where people feel most at ease. Green spaces.
In the meantime I’m tending my own green space and that living wall has given me a few ideas for plant combinations that will work well in part of my garden. I have a few seeds to sow and, as you can never have too much Mexican fleabane ( daisy-like, bottom centre of the picture) in your garden, I’m off to the plant nursery to buy one plant. Once it’s established I’ll be able to transplant the seedlings elsewhere and even divide the plant up to create more. Best done in Spring, nevertheless I might experiment now, buy two plants, chop one up, give it a haircut and pot up the divisions. I’ll let you know how I get on. Gardening is all about experimentation and adaptability.
What will you do to help your mental health and I prove the planet?
Subscribe to this blog to join a community of like-minded souls.
l love a garden where there is no bare soil and which breaks a few rules. This densely-planted one in York ticks a few boxes. Like my own, it stays on the right side of wild and rampant.
Just.
But it wouldn’t take too long to get out of control.
Not unlike my own.
I’m not one for manicured lawns and uber-organised borders, although I do adhere to the basic garden design principles of tall plants at the back and small at the front. And I worship at the altar of working, evolving gardens not instant and low-maintenance gardens to sit in. I get my kicks from pruning and weeding. Truly. Creating order out of chaos is one of my gardening joys but a growing trend this year encourages gardeners to embrace the chaos.
Chaos gardening is nothing new. Anyone with limited money, a few packets of out of date seed, a patch of soil (or a pot or a window box) and a hopeful, experimental attitude has flung seeds into the soil and waited to see what happened. Sometimes you end up with a thing of beauty resembling a wildflower meadow; often you don’t, which can be a tad disheartening for novice gardeners. So if you want to embrace this approach to creating a natural-looking garden, which is great for biodiversity, for minimal effort and which looks good, here are my top tips.
A little chaos does you and your garden good but we all need some gentle guidance to be successful.
I’ve been to more weddings in the past month than I had in the previous five years; something which is a direct result of my new (very part- time) role as a registrar with the local council. Essentially, when anyone in my part of the county wants to get married in a licensed venue, I ensure the legalities are taken care of or act as celebrant. We work in pairs. So far I’ve been to a Georgian townhouse, a country house hotel, County Hall twice and Stourhead – varied venues, very different ceremonies and unique couples. It’s a privilege and a joy to witness a threshold moment in two lives, to hear their story and assist them over that threshold. Unsurprisingly, many of the skills I’ve honed as a counsellor come into play as a registrar – the ability to put people at ease, to ground them, to listen, to walk alongside, to witness their testimony and to co- create something meaningful and special.
Not too dissimilar but at the other end of life is the work I do with bereaved clients, walking beside them as they navigate life without their partner, parent, sibling, child or friend beside them. Many of them talk about the funeral being a threshold moment when they feel they must take those first tentative steps away from their old life.
They’re not ready.
It creeps up on them after days and sometimes busy weeks of admin, visits and attention from friends, family and neighbours.
Then it goes quiet and they don’t know how to be.
I see funerals a lot through the eyes of my clients but this week I’m attending one in the woods at a natural burial ground I’ve not visited before. The funeral director is a lad (now a man) I tutored thirty years ago. Wiltshire people are connected to each other in umpteen ways. I’m expecting it to be a quietly uplifting experience as well as an emotional one, deep in the heart of nature.
The rest of my time has been taken up with the garden – my own therapy, my happy place, my creative engine and what brings me joy.
I have an uncomfortable relationship with the Chelsea Flower Show, arguably the biggest and most prestigious horticultural event of the year. Where Chelsea is London Fashion Week; I’m more charity shop chic. I buy almost exclusively from local nurseries and plant fairs, sow from seed, take cuttings and swop plants with other growers. Despite a big leap forward in cutting the show’s carbon footprint in recent years, I still find the idea of carting plants and landscaping materials hundreds – and sometimes thousands – of miles for a week hard to accept. But it’s a shop front and big business for the horticultural industry – an industry where most people work long hours, doing hard manual work for minimal wages. Thus, one that we should support. The bulk of garden designers commanding the big bucks are men but I’m going to focus on the two aspects of the show that did resonate with me this year – unsurprisingly they are the work of women – Jo Thompson’s Glasshouse Garden and the Funeral Flowers stand.
Jo is the only female designer of a large show garden this year and her Glasshouse Garden, described as “a bold, immersive space celebrating feminine strength, second chances, and the healing power of nature” was bound to get my attention. The Glasshouse project itself supports women leaving prison – through horticultural training, resettlement support and employment. Like many horticultural enterprises it has proved transformative with a 0% reoffending rate, offering a positive and purposeful future for women in custody and their families. Gardening has that transformative effect. It’s why I meet bereaved clients often in their gardens and we talk about their grief whilst working with our hands in the soil.
One of the powerhouses behind the British flowers movement is Gill Hodgson, champion of growing and selling seasonal, British blooms with are much more sustainable than the flower industry in general. She, along with a few others from the Funeral Flowers Directory brought an award-winning display of funeral flowers to Chelsea this year. It opened up discussion not just about how you can assist churchyards and crematoriums by choosing flowers for graves and memorial gardens which are entirely compostable ( zero plastic and foam), it also encouraged people to be less hesitant about discussing their own funeral with loved ones. This is something grief counsellors like me are instructed to do as part of our training, but many people shy away from. Here was a gentle way to start the conversation. In my experience it’s a conversation that nobody regrets having and many grieving relatives wish they’d had.
Two positives to come out of Chelsea.
Now I’m off to plant my stash acquired yesterday at Holt Village Hall – cuttings from friends’ gardens or sown from seed by village acquaintances. I don’t want or need to go to Chelsea.
We’ve just come back from a few days away in Cornwall – staying in a secluded shepherd’s hut down a farm track, looking out over fields. What a delight to be able to sit outside for breakfast and tune into the sounds of rural life. As a counsellor, I have well-developed listening ears. On the telephone, in the absence of non-verbal cues, you learn to lean into the silence and listen for subtle changes of tone which reveal how a client is feeling and what they are doing. Sitting outside looking out over the Cornish fields the sound of silence was in fact the sound of at least twenty different birds, insects, animals, the wind in the trees, a distant helicopter and someone shutting a farm gate whilst collecting the cows for milking.
As someone who grew up in the countryside I can identify a few birds, wild flowers and suitable plants to forage but I’m a recent disciple of Cornell Lab of Ornithology‘s Merlin Bird ID app. I use it in the garden and on walks, where local hedgerows and woodland have taken on a new life. As a friend recently said “simply hitting record allows the app to determine the most likely birds you’re hearing, making invisible (but audible) wildlife more present than ever before”. Whether you’re in a Cornish field, a Wiltshire woodland or a city park, I’d give it a try. It’s a lovely way to get away from your desk and out into nature.
The art of listening has also occupied my reading recently as I’ve just finished Alice Vincent’s latest ‘Hark: How Women listen’. I had high hopes for this one, having found a lot of resonance in ‘Why Women Grow.’ This one didn’t really land with me and I wondered why. Upon reflection I feel it was mistitled. What it should be called is ‘Hark: How I learned to listen again’, for it is really a reflection of how Vincent has evolved as a listener since having a child. I loved the examples of listening she brings in from other women but they were there only to illuminate her own story rather than to be fleshed out stories in themselves. A book that will certainly resonate with reflective, educated women who have recently had a baby. Matrescence – the process of becoming a mother- as a concept is marketable right now and Vincent taps into this.
Whether you are a new mother, a counsellor or someone who wants to improve your listening skills, there’s never been a better time to seize the day. Honing your listening skills will help everyone -including yourself. Seek out moments of silence and lean into them, listen to your inner voice more and when in conversation, actively focus on what someone is saying to you, give them your full attention, empathise, give them space. Sometimes it’s in the silences that the most honest communication takes place. Try it.
Formed in 2009, the Archive Team (not to be confused with the archive.org Archive-It Team) is a rogue archivist collective dedicated to saving copies of rapidly dying or deleted websites for the sake of history and digital heritage. The group is 100% composed of volunteers and interested parties, and has expanded into a large amount of related projects for saving online and digital history.
Country Gate's Sunday Brunch 