The end of November still brought us beautiful, crisp, sunny days and some cold nights with frost when the silver birch looks at it’s most regal. But it was still warm enough to garden and to keep working on the changes for next year. It is true that there is a lovely clarity about the slightly-felled winter garden which often really helps when thinking about changes…which I always am. It’s not about restlessness, more about continually working away as things themselves evolve, and create new possibilities. There are always too those corners which, for some deep psychological reason, I occasionally torture myself with by leaving them to fall into decrepitude. I am then forced to the altar of decision by the mess that I have allowed to develop. Strange business, the mind.
But, after a few days enjoying a wintery London, I came back to a freezing mist and was slightly amazed that the car started first time in the airport carpark. Back home, dawn the following morning, was a delight. Light creeping into leaf shapes and cracks, dusting the top of iced plants and so, despite the fact that my usual dressing gown was supplemented by my winter parka, I rushed back into the house to get the camera and do my best with it. Piet Oudolf is quite right, the best plants die well as well as grow well.