Monday, 24 November 2014

Nothing lasts forever

It may be because I've been married to an historian for over 40 years, but, despite enjoying reading about new and interesting ideas and projects and visiting different gardens, I am somehow loathe to make drastic changes in the garden. I especially feel that the trees, so many of which were in situ when we moved here 35 years ago, deserve to live out their alloted span without much interference from me and should be preserved no matter what.

In the shade of the old apple tree

However, I finally took the plunge, or rather the axe, and  agreed that Norman, All Seasons Arboralist, should finally fell our old apple tree. In a fit of enthusiasm, I had planted a white rambling rose - Kiftsgate - having a romantic notion that the white  blossoms cascading down and through the branches would make a delightful scene in  early summer. In a Sissinghurst moment I  added a white clematis montana for extra impact. Such a mistake! After a short time in garden terms, the poor tree was overwhelmed, the tree canopy so dense that I feared for its safety each time we had strong winds. So it was time for it to go.

New viewpoint
Feeling a mixture of sadness and elation at the thought of spending the winter months deciding what to plant in the newly-exposed space. (The fern has now also gone, opening up the space even more).
Suggestions welcome

1 comment:

  1. A wonderful post. I have leaned from you the a garden itself is a living, organism where the cycle of growing and living and lifespans is part of its evolution. I was touched byyour idea that the trees deserving to liver out their lifespan, Your prose gives me the sense of trees being sentient beings. You pictures are exceptional, wx