A couple of weeks ago, the Hapless Gardener asked me if I would write a guest post for his blog, Growing up. As a regular follower of the tales of his gardening exploits in Bristol, I readily agreed, only regretting my decision when he suggested that I write about an emotion of my choice. An emotion? I write about food and gardening, was I qualified to write about emotion?
When I sat down to put metaphorical pen to paper, I quickly realised that there was one obvious emotion linking the topics I usually covered in my blog: Love. So here it is, my musings on Love, as published in the Hapless Gardener's guest bed.
For the relationship between garden and gardener has taken the Hapless Gardener and me completely (and independently) by surprise. It has been so overwhelming that we have both chosen to write about it in our blogs.
Let me explain.
The Love between garden and gardener is based on a few simple principles. First, it is undemanding: the garden asks nothing of the gardener except that which the gardener knows the gardener can give; light, warmth, water, time. The garden, in return, rewards the gardener with stunning results year after year.
Together the garden and gardener share the miracle of new life. The perfect combination of nature and nurture. I know I am not alone in arriving home and rushing to the window sill/propagator/greenhouse to see whether my seeds have germinated. Or in experiencing that flush of excitement in January when the first green shoots of spring start to appear. (I fear I may be alone in encouraging my Delicata Cornell squash seeds to germinate by placing them, in their pots, on a hot water bottle topped up with hot water every four hours.)