My Secret Garden

Some say that your garden reflects your personality, and that’s certainly true in my case. The main body of my garden is big, bold and bright, just this side of chaos. It gets better as it matures, from spring into late summer, when it reaches its full potential. Well, I was a late developer too, and I can be the life and soul of the party.  

But towards the back of the garden, through a rustic archway, is my secret garden. This is the Me that only my nearest and dearest get to see. My greenhouse is tucked away behind our apple tree, which, together with the ancient lilac, was planted when our house was built in 1925. My greenhouse is the beating heart of the garden. It’s where I propagate my cherished salvias, sow seeds and grow my summer salads. It’s where I go if my energy levels are depleted; a spot of pottering about with the radio on in the background restores me.

By contrast to the hot colours of the perennial borders, this part of the garden sits in cool seclusion, in the deep shade of the self-sown sycamore tree, just the other side of our 10ft tall, ivy clad fence. A mere sapling when we arrived 29 years ago, it’s now mighty tall and loved by the parakeets, magpies, wood pigeons and squirrels.

The boughs of the lilac sit almost horizontal over a gravel bed, surrounded by ferns, low growing grasses and self-sown Mexican Fleabane. A pebble water feature babbles away gently. As the rest of the world fades into the background, only bird song registers.

Surrounding a hexagonal pattern of reclaimed stone setts are four small flower beds, full of shade lovers such as hardy geranium, epimedium, Solomon’s Seal, hellebores and ferns, topped with a bark mulch. The colour pallet is green and white. In the centre sits elegant juniper Skyrocket, an ultra-slim, columnar evergreen conifer.

I share this space with my husband David, who converted our potting shed into a summer house a couple of decades ago, recently repurposing it into a studio for his upcycled gardenalia. In here is a quite space for me to write. The sage green paintwork blends perfectly with the planting scheme. And when I ran out of room to plant at ground level, he simply built me a roof garden on top.

He designed a metal mezzanine structure to take its weight, with a ship’s staircase leading up onto a wooden deck. Heavy duty steel planters enclose the space on all four sides, filled with tall ornamental grasses and lemon kniphofias. Our neighbours’ damson tree hangs over the back; the deal is I can pick the fruit if I make the jam! A climbing white rose scrambles into the tree canopy. On the other outer side, we are sheltered by a mature conifer, casting a welcome cool shadow. At its heart, I’ve created a mini meadow in a fire pit. It’s very secluded here; a perfect spot for me to sit and unwind. I am eyelevel with the songbirds fluttering around in the tree canopy, as the ornamental grasses swish and sway in the breeze.

This is my secret hideaway. My mind calms, my breathing slows, and I can just be Me for a while, before it’s time to emerge into the bright sunshine once more.  

 Love, Caroline

Cover photo: My quiet place on the roof terrace