Curating the Borders

Isn’t it lovely to be able to get outside in the garden after three dryish days. I’ve spent all morning working my way around the borders, taking in the signs of spring. New shoots are emerging daily now; the rain doesn’t seem to have held any of the plants back. A thick layer of mulch has insulated the borders against waterlogging and compaction.

So, a little bit of pruning here and there; abelia, hardy fuchsia, oakleaf hydrangea. Cutting back some ferns. Picking off dead foliage. Do I prune the salvias yet? Perhaps just by half, then wait another month to hard prune them. What I’m doing is, in effect, curating the borders.

I like my garden to look like it hasn’t been touched for a fortnight; relaxed, natural and effortless, not overworked or pristine. Wordsworth puts it far better than I ever could. He wanted nature to lead the way, to 'defend us from the tyranny of trimness and neatness.’

I favour the Arts and Crafts garden style, which champions a romantic, slightly untamed look, hinting that it has been tended, but not over-manicured.

Take ivy for example. It will happily grow anywhere but left to its own devices it would wind its way into hedges and tree canopies, competing with the host plant for water and nutrients. But neither would I want it eradicated. I work my fingers into the soil and gently pull out the tendrils, trimming them back to about, say, a half or three quarters, so that they still look like they belong there. When I’m done, I want the garden to look like I haven’t been there.

Let’s face it; a garden is an artificial environment, completely man-made. It takes practice and experience to make it look natural! It’s a process of give and take with Mother Nature. Which leads us back to the principle of Right Plant Right Place. I’m learning to embrace self-sown eryngiums and wild crocus bulbs. Let them flourish where they settle, they have chosen their right place to grow.

Now is the ideal time to take stock of your borders. To examine its basic framework. To make sweeping changes or just simple adjustments. William Morris nailed it, when he said, ‘Have nothing (in your houses) that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.’ Well, I think that applies to our gardens as well. Go, take a look!

Love, Caroline