I write a lot about the benefits of wild design, primarily for biodiversity and climate resilience but what about aesthetics?

The word ‘design’ can make some scoff, it’s easy to think design is all about shallow looks that don’t matter compared to more important things, like helping wildlife. As with most things in life, it is never either or, we can have purpose in gardens and an aesthetic that we enjoy. Design is about more than looks, it is far from shallow. To me the core of design is problem solving, creating a space that fits all requirements. Usability, productivity, wildlife friendly and yes, beautiful.

After ten years of designing gardens across the UK in an increasingly wild style of design I know it is possible to create gardens with purpose and beauty. In fact, the two things go hand in hand.

I’ve learnt a huge amount about the psychology of what people perceive as beauty in gardens and how it affects them emotionally. Perceived beauty in gardens matters because it sparks something in us that makes us happy, excited and able to relax. It helps break us away from our daily worries.

To me, wild style design is about emotion. When I design a garden for someone else and in our own garden at home, what I am trying to do is create the emotions we feel when our breath is taken away by a beautiful scene in the wild.

For that to work, the planting can’t simply be an artificial recreation of what we think the wild looks like. It has to be an active plant community and ecosystem with a life of its own. I don’t want naturalistic, I want real natural. The garden has to be alive and free and that to me is the defining element of wild design.

As gardeners we are part of the garden ecosystem and part of what we do as humans is play with plants. Which means we can steer the plant communities to our preferences in terms of looks - the colours we like, the structures and effect. Some plantings may contain only native wildflowers, others cultivars too. Yet it is free to grow and change around our plans, the garden and gardener work in tandem.

In terms of looks, it is entirely possible to have a fully formal garden with topiary and rigid structure that is wildlife friendly. It’s not true that I don’t enjoy gardens like this that other people create, I am just not the best person to create that. However, this is not wild style of design. To return to the core point for me, wild design is about drawing on the emotions we feel in nature.

This means that yes, wild design gardens are looser, more chaotic. Plants are allowed to mingle and flop into one another. Yes, weeds may grow between cultivars we planted. These unplanned events give the garden life. There is so much going on around the plants and this creates habitat for so much wildlife. The garden is alive in ways a more pristine or manicured garden cannot be.

For us, I believe this freeness has a psychological effect that can relax us. If the garden is free and untamed, we draw upon that.

I don’t deny however that there is a part of us as humans that needs a kind of order. I like this quirk of humanity, the part that feels relieved after we’ve returned order to a messy room following a good tidy up. I feel it when I mow the path through our chaotic garden.

To deny this part of our psychology in wild gardens is a mistake that turns many people off the style. A garden without an obvious path to walk or an open area to sit will send the mess alarm in our brain into overdrive. I totally understand this and the fact some people don’t like wild design at first. We’ve been so conditioned against it, it has even taken me this long to feel confident to say, this is my style, this is my art.

I often call our garden a nest and I think there is more to that casual term than I first thought. Throughout history we evolved in wild nature and would have made comfortable clearings to live. There’s something about that part of us I feel is more important than we realise or understand.

A wild style design garden is wild but it needs humanity. Humanity makes a garden as much as the rest of nature. As we are part of nature, we are part of the garden. Is the gardener the garden?

In our spaces we can choose to blur the boundaries between the wild areas of planting and tidy areas for us as much or as little as we like. One person may have no path or seating area, others may like a clearly defined planting area next to a patio. In our garden I do both with areas blending the planting and space for us.

So what is the wild aesthetic? I believe the wild aesthetic is authentic, it embraces plants growing how they want to grow. Perceived imperfection to some is social conditioning against true perfection of nature. Wild design loves nibbled leaves, it loves dead and broken stems, it embraces flopping and the subsequent regrowth, it embraces the unplanned. It embraces life, as much life as we can conjure with plants. And it has enough of an element of humanity to balance nature’s beautiful chaos with space and structure for us to relax and feel comfortable in our nest.

Wild style gardens draw on the plant structure we see in nature, when plants spread in a random way that gives it a loose structure to our mind. Repetition of plants, an anchoring shrub or the edge of a path helps our mind to understand what is a complex scene.

At many times through my design career I’ve felt a societal pressure to give our garden more structure, that perhaps I really should weed out the buttercups. It never happens, I cannot do it, I love the freeness of our plant communities too much. I love waiting to see what will happen. The reason I love it so much is because I haven’t intervened at times when I could have and the garden has a life of its own. Though I do intervene, I don’t want to give the impression I do nothing, I help by pulling out a nettle or bramble that might crowd out five other important smaller plants. I plant wildflowers and cultivars for colour I like and for specific wildlife purposes. Overall though, the garden is leading the way as much if not more than I am.

Keep learning

Upgrade to a paid Wild Way subscription for £26/year

1) Prioritise growing more plants

One thing I do recommend to all gardeners: keep growing. Keep sowing seeds, keep taking cuttings, keep dividing plants. Enjoying these processes, they form the engine room of garden success.

My primary focus in our garden has always been to grow new plants above anything else. By prioritising plants I have a constant supply of low-cost or free plants. This means I worry much less about everything else.

I absolutely never prioritise weeding, tidying or other admin over growing new plants. I do these activities but they come last. This is because there is no point weeding an area if you don’t have another plant to fill the gap, everything will just regrow.

Growing new plants all the time also keeps me moving - with a table of plant babies I’ve cared for, eventually they need planting out. That spurs me on to tasks like planting into our garden’s ornamental plant community, or to finally clear a veg bed to plant out the lettuce.

2) Don’t worry about plant losses

Sure, I have a few plants I am more attached to than others but a plant loss is an opportunity to grow something new. In our main garden I planned for a whole bunch of plants that either flowered one year and then vanished, or simply haven’t grown as expected.

I really want Verbascum thapsis everywhere, but whatyagonnado? Our ground is too rich and the planting too dense. I’d have to constantly weed areas and plant them every year to have them. I ain’t got time for that. Instead, I’m leaning into other plants that grow here without my mollycoddling.

If a shrub or tree dies, I’ll plant another. As my friend and expert gardener Stephen Barney once said “we’re gardening, not keeping plants on life support.” Lean into what works.

3) Try at least three times

Gardens are alive. They do what they want. When a plant we try dies, it may be our fault, it may also be something else we had no control over. I will always give a plant at least two to three chances.

I tried growing Penstemon ‘Andenken an Friedrich Hahn’ three times here in Yorkshire, it only survived winter once. I know it definitely isn’t me, it just isn’t hardy enough to bother growing next door to Wuthering Heights. Instead I am growing hardier species because, although I love growing new plants, I am not into plants that act annually adding needlessly to my workload. There are thousands of alternatives.

I’ve also had other plants that haven’t taken at first. I try again and they thrive - always try at least two or three times. Sometimes batches of seed don’t work for whatever reason, always sow again as you never know.

4) Plan ahead

Never do I stand and stare at our garden and think ‘ah that looks lovely, it’s finished.’ No sooner is an area flowering, I’m staring at it planning for next year. Constantly. It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the moment too, we can do both.

5) Document everything

Or at least, as much as I can. I’d forgotten I drew the above sketch in the year we moved in before I planted the garden and reduced that left hand hedge.

I constantly take photos of our garden, keep spreadsheets of everything I grow and write about what’s happening. You are actually reading my garden diary right now, I just happen to publish it on the Wild Way and in books and magazines.

Not everyone is as much of a note taking loser as me but at least taking photos and keeping a note of cultivar names is helpful. It’s almost impossible to remember everything, so when it comes to planning, it’s essential to have something to look back on. A photo of summer can inform what new colours to order in winter.

Exact plant names are really important to know how big they will grow and for longterm care.

6) Obsession

I walk around and look at our garden at every opportunity I get. Yes I am obsessed with our garden because I love it. I wouldn’t ever suggest everyone is obsessive as I am but a dash of obsession certainly helps.

Being out there, seeing stuff, makes me do stuff too. I actually spend about 90% of time just looking, and then I act on the important bits that need something - a new plant, a mow, a snip back, whatever. Regularly being out in your garden is key really, and that happens to also be as beneficial for us.

7) Deprioritise boring crap

Weeding out the dandelions leading up to our front door would take me over an hour - why bother? That’s an hour lost on growing vegetables or enhancing an important plant community elsewhere with more biodiversity for wildlife.

I’m being facetious with a point. I actually do like a tidy path or patio juxtaposed with a complex plant community. Most of my designs are actually like that. If I had the time I would point some areas of our front patio, while leaving some for plants.

However, there is a pressure from society to make our gardens just so. Why? Our gardens are our art, they represent us, they should look how we want. I rejoice in the individuality of gardens, people worry when I visit gardens but they don’t need to. If they are happy I am flipping delighted! I love the stories.

As long as they don’t use pesticides or peat, I adore gardens being how people truly want them to be. That could be formal or wild. Reject societal notions of perfection in gardens or any idea that gardens should be a particular way.

Our garden has a 350 year old farmhouse next to moors and grassland that would have had wildflowers up to the front door. I’m able to just about grow lots of vegetables, look after the hedges for birds, meadow, coppice and everything else by not prioritising less important things like weeding the cracks in paving. Though I’ll do it when I have a spare hour, one day.

One of the hopes with my book A Greener Life was to change opinions on unfairly maligned wildlife including moths and hoverfly. These two groups of insect are completely harmless to humans, they don’t sting or bite. In fact, they are very gentle and cute creatures.

I have a particular fondness for moths because there are so many species in the UK that are hugely varied and incredibly beautiful. Their colours and shapes are inspired by nature to camouflage themselves against bark, lichen, leaves, twigs and flowers. They are also often easy to observe and identify with a few techniques.

Having a wide diversity of moth species in your garden is one of my key pillars to a healthy ecosystem. Moths prove the garden has a wide diversity of plants on which their caterpillars feed, eating leaves, stems or flowers. In turn, moths are a core food source for birds and other insects. The more moths you have, the more other wildlife you will attract.

Turn any worries you may have about moths into wonder my taking a closer look.

1) Study day-flying moths

No equipment required except your eyes and a camera - your phone camera will do, especially if it has a macro and zoom mode to zoom in from a distance.

As you walk around your garden you’ll start to notice some moths fly in the daytime like butterflies - many people do mistake them for butterflies. If you brush foliage it’s likely you will disturb a moth causing it to fly to another spot.

All you have to do is move slowly and follow where the moth eventually lands. You can then look at it from a short distance and try to take photos to study the detail on their wings later.

2) Study night-flying moths

The real fun begins with the magic of studying night flying moths because that’s what the vast majority are active. Here are two easy ways to study night-flying moths.

i) White sheet and lamp

Super simple, peg a white bed sheet up somewhere and when it’s dark place a lamp behind it. Obviously be careful with the electrics, you can buy fairly inexpensive bright camping lights made for outdoor use. A good method is actually to place the sheet in front of a house window with the light in the room on. Moths will fly into the sheet allowing you to take a look and snap some photos. Take a torch to see the moths more easily.

ii) Moth traps

The name moth trap is unfortunate because it sounds like you’re harming them but all you do is attract them to a container overnight, study them either at night or in the morning, and then release. If you check first thing in the morning and don’t repeat night after night, this is not harmful to the moths. It is also the easiest way to study them as they are sleepy and slow in the cold of morning.

There are various moth traps available that all tend to be extremely expensive for what they are. Portable fold up traps exist, battery powered vs mains, as well as different sizes. I wanted to look at the moths in our garden so I bought a trap with a mains cable I power from our shed’s electricity using an outdoor extension lead.

It’s the special actinic light bulbs that make up the cost. Actinic bulbs produce UV light frequencies we can’t see that are highly attractive to various moth species (it’s dangerous to our eyes so never look directly at the bulb and consider wearing special protective glasses). In the past mercury vapour bulbs were used that were really bright, got very hot and needed more power including a cumbersome additional electrical control box for safety. These are being replaced by less powerful lights better for the environment that don’t need the heavy electrical control box. While it’s felt these new bulbs don’t attract as many or different species of moth, for everyday purposes I find it absolutely fine.

Considering how expensive the traps are, it makes me laugh that the way to line them is with upturned old egg boxes. Moths seem to like clinging to the inside of these - it’s where you’ll find them in the morning.

When releasing moths after trapping them, leave the egg boxes somewhere sheltered and shaded under a shrub or other plants. This allows the moths to fly away in their own time out of sight from birds - birds can learn to visit moth releases if done too often in the same spot!

Other equipment you’ll need

Read more

What is wood pasture?

Our garden is almost entirely a mix of trees and open areas of grassland. This mix is often called wood pasture, when grass and herbs are grazed by livestock, deer or other animals (rabbits and hares are also key grazers for us!)

However I’d say a lot of ours is actually wood meadow because the flower rich grassland areas are mown by a farmer for hay or by me using a mower or scythe. Either way, the aim is largely the same, to have areas of trees growing in open areas of grassland.

Read more

Weeds and pests. It seems for some people worrying about these two things is a large part of gardening. Personally, I gave up worrying about the concept of weeds and pests in gardens years ago when I realised they weren’t the problem they were made out to be. Problems? Pff. Throw those thoughts away. Gone! Poof!

Take one of my young food forests above, I know many people would be itching to get those creeping buttercup and grasses out. But if you look closely, like one of those Magic Eye pictures from the 90s, you’ll start to spot the leaves and flowers of other plants that I intentionally planted. They’re growing happily regardless. The problem is in our head.

Sure, I do stomp, yank or cut back the leaves of some around the younger plants until they are established and we do have to keep the roe deer out of some areas of the garden otherwise those large fluffies eat everything. I net some brassicas in summer, though not all, to preserve some leaves for us to eat, but that’s it.

I’m not going to spend hours weeding out everything for it to grow back a few weeks later and I’m certainly not going to wage war on gentle slugs and snails. I simply do not have the time and those weedy interlopers are actually serving an important purpose. One they are a moisture locking groundcover, two they increase biodiversity and three they help improve soil fertility.

In our main garden I’m following the same laissez-faire approach and with each year it works better and better. Perennials establish and spread (naturally or by my helping hand) slowly crowding out the buttercups and dandelions. The buttercups will always be there, benefiting wildlife and the garden only more diluted.

I went cold turkey on worrying about insect and mollusc damage years ago. As soon as I did I saw gardens differently, I focussed on the big picture, not the odd lost leaf or plant. My eyes were also opened to the complex ecosystem in our garden and the joy to be had from knowing each plant supports tens, sometimes hundreds of species of animal. In turns sometimes supporting other animals that eat the smaller ones.

Outside our house is a small patio we don’t really use for sitting on so I co-opted it as an extension of the planting areas, discussed in last week’s newsletter. It’s pretty fun watching this space change each year as the plants seed, kinda like slices of a meadow with some ornamental plants thrown in. We do have another patio with pointing and no plants in the cracks, I like that look juxtaposed against the chaos. It’s good everyone has a choice by casting aside society’s expectations of what a garden should look like.

I know I won’t win some people over with all of this, their world view of gardens is too fixed. But when I hear people spending money and time on remedies for things like a leaf being nibbled or whatever, I want them not to worry about it for their benefit as well as the wildlife.

I’ve learnt that by accepting perceived problems in gardens it reframes everything and we plan accordingly - they are no longer problems. Rather than weeding out buttercups, what will grow alongside them? Rather than worrying about slug nibbles on leaves, what is tolerant or resistant to them?

My number one tip is to focus your time on growing more plants. When you know there is a constant supply of plants to fill gaps or cover buttercups, it makes everything better. Growing plants from seed, cutting or division is always time well spent.

Keep learning with a Wild Way paid subscription

1) Silene flos-cuculi (Plant of the Month)

Oh ragged robin! You are the Wild Way incarnate. I’m overjoyed that every single one of the ragged robin plants I grew from seed and planted out last autumn are flowering magnificently in our meadow.

I’m not sure why but I’d always assumed ragged robin would be hard to grow, and I suppose it is in drier regions. They are wetland plants and need soil that doesn’t fully dry out but are more tolerant than I assumed.

Ragged robin works beautifully in gardens as well as dense damp meadows. I’ve explained how to grow them from seed in its plant profile. Interestingly the new plants are much further along than the parent in the main meadow which isn’t flowering yet.

2) Nectaroscordum siculum

Read more

Our front garden is essentially an overgrown patio with a number of small square planting areas into which I’ve primarily planted herbs. In the cracks of the paving I have no choice but allow stuff to grow which significantly increases our growing area. The crack planting is a little like a miniature stone plateau.

In spring three Cytisus ‘All Gold’ brooms firmly make the main colour yellow in a very bright statement. I’m leaning into this colour because dandelions, buttercups and Welsh poppies bring it regardless of what I want. From late-May, the broom flowers begin to fade and the paler Potentilla fruticosa take the batton.

Among them are some white flowers, I like white flowered rosemary, Salvia rosmarinus ‘Alba’, though unfortunately its stems are too brittle in our exposed windy spot, often snapping in winter storms. One has survived. I don’t shape our shrubs too much, I prefer them to be freer and natural.

Allowing plants to grow between cracks of paving creates a unique habitat favouring plants that struggle in a competitive border because here they have more space. In our patio self-sown Aquilegia bring welcome purple alongside the white of ox-eye daisy and yarrow. To this I’ve encouraged chives, oregano and thyme. I’d like musk mallow and lady’s bedstraw here too.

The main theme of these beds is edibility. Almost all plants have to be edible in some way for us to use in the kitchen - the exception being the Potentilla, though apparently even its leaves can be used as a tea, not that I ever will. Buttercup and Welsh poppy aren’t edible either. Everything I intentionally add is edible.

Last year I added a new bay, two different sages and tougher rosemary. These are all settling in and by the end of this summer will bring a new and stronger structure to these borders. Around them I’ve added flowering salvias for colour pops, which are pink and purple.

Although I like the yellow spring colour pops, I’d be lying if I said I love it just yet. I much prefer our front herb garden in summer when it is much more colourful. But despite that, I do love how it is shaping up overall. And the yellow goes well against our charcoal grey door and windows, as well as natural stone walls.

Although I don’t quite love the yellow palette, I am really enjoying playing around with it to make it work. While the contrasting purple flowers are a classic combo, I’m more interested in steering these beds towards rust colours - the colours of the lichens on the walls - with reds and oranges to see how that works. Though, in summer I’m going to have no colour rules at all - any colour goes, which I think is best with herb beds.

I’ll share an update in summer so you can see how different this space looks across the seasons.

Keep learning with a Wild Way paid subscription

A wildflower that’s been growing on me in recent years is Jack-by-the-hedge, also known as garlic mustard or its botanical name Alliaria petiolata.

The plant has a wide native range from Europe (including the UK) all the way to central Asia, down to north west Africa. Which tells us Alliaria petiolata is tolerant of a wide range of conditions. Though it’s a problematic introduction in North America where it should be avoided.

Need to know information about Alliaria petiolata

Read more

In Bordeaux we discovered an incredible wilding project along the right hand bank of the Garonne river. We’d been looking at the lush green bank from the beautiful old city, assuming it was a disused industrial area. In fact, while that is partly true, it has been reclaimed by the city’s people with landscape architect Michel Desvigne at the helm.

Essentially Parc aux Angéliques is a 3.5km walk through 75 hectares of park land that is being allowed to return to a natural state. Some areas are closed off to the public - though still visible - to allow native wildflowers to return.

Parc aux Angéliques is named after wild angelica which is native to the city and it is a breath of fresh air. It feels so contemporary, so cutting edge and is incredibly beautiful. Hundreds of residents and visitors were walking, running and cycling up and down the main path. Stopping off to use outdoor gyms, basketball courts or to simply sit on the modern benches.

Some areas have mown grass but much has been left as delicate grassland. Everything is so light and airy, and very green after walking the beautiful but stone streets. I can imagine how important this fairly new park is to people who live in the city.

The most notable thing to me as a planting planner, is that trees are being used to create shade. With the current interest in climate change gardens in the UK, I would suggest this approach is far more interesting than aggregate mulches.

All manner of deciduous trees bring lots of shade to cool everyone during the heat of the day. With areas left for full sun, creating a mosaic of habitat. By interspersing low cut grassland with long, it allows light in on some sides for sun loving plants, and shade loving on the opposite side.

Occasional art installations make the most of the natural backdrop. It’s all so stylish in the way France does so incredibly well.

At one end are swales, sunken planting areas where rain water can runoff and drain slowly into soil. This helps prevent or reduce flooding. These have been more intentionally planted with a mix of colourful wildflowers

When we visited in late-April the spring flowering had largely finished as much of the habitats were entering a summer dormancy. In the south of France, it’s autumn, winter and spring that tend to be the most verdant.

But there was still plenty of colour to be spotted and the variety of species is already impressive. The city plans to nurture the park to increase biodiversity in a gentle way over time.

Though it was already the most alive part of the city we’d seen, with birds and insects flying around.

I am incredibly excited about Parc aux Angéliques, it sets a fantastic global example on so many levels. Greening the city for the benefit of people while also helping wildlife. Increasing residents’ exposure to nature. Both Chris and I felt it was our highlight of Bordeaux, which is saying something because it is a wonderful city.

I also noticed in a few new planting areas finely chipped young ramial wood is used as a mulch. Ramial wood is chopped up pieces of young wood that is only a few years old and nutritionally rich as it decomposes. I suspect this is to help lock in moisture as well as to keep the competition down while the main plants establish. In the above photo you can see this and trees being planted to create shade for an understory planting.

It all feels so effortless, so natural and so free. If you have the chance to visit Bordeaux, I recommend making a trip across the bridges to Parc aux Angéliques.

Chris and I spent a long weekend in Bordeaux in the south of France to celebrate 20 years since we first started dating. It’s a beautiful city on the banks of the Garonne river and the height of European romanticism. With stunning architecture and an abundance of vibrant restaurants, bars, cafes and shops. A city that melds classic with contemporary perfectly demonstrating that artistic edge continental Europe does so well.

As we walked the city streets we began to comment on the lush climbers casually growing up the beige limestone walls. Turning what would be a city of stone to a verdant oasis, filling streets with the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle - their flowers just beginning to open.

Broken fragments of terracotta pot or gutter were propped against many of the plant bases. Clearly residents are making an effort to protect and care for them. It was while commenting on these, we noticed many of the climbers were actually quite young.

That’s when it dawned on us: is this a recent effort to green the city? Planting climbers into defunct drains, pockets and cracks. Chris did a quick search online which confirmed it is. The city is attempting to increase biomass and the council will support house owners that want to turn their narrow pavement into a ‘crack garden’ with vines and other plants such as hollyhocks and figs. We looked back on Google Street view and many of the climbers we saw hadn’t been there five years ago.

Council officials can be booked to cut a planting pocket and fill it with starter soil. Presumably making sure the underlying soil is easily accessed by roots.

It added to our love for Bordeaux, to see so many homeowners and businesses actively planting and protecting these young plants growing in the most unlikely spots. Bordeaux has an excitement about it, a city full of energy and creativity. The fact plants are part of that drive makes it all the more cutting edge.

Around the old parts of town vibrant green leads the eye upward, enhancing the abundance of carved stone facades. It’s quite amazing how much biomass one climber can add to what would be an entirely lifeless stone street.

We loved the way many businesses were embracing the idea, I even saw one architect firm with wildflowers growing out of the tiny cracks between the pavement and building. Their climber had been allowed to trail over the door.

It all felt so free and a breath of fresh air. Many of the jasmine hadn’t opened their buds yet and we could only imagine the perfume through the summer months.

Practically, a few things struck us that are worth noting. First we didn’t see one damaged pavement from the roots or stems - not one! Even around the oldest, thickest wisteria that grew high enough to cover a three story building. Secondly, presumably the plants have ample soil and moisture beneath the stone paving. Bordeaux’s summer temperature is regularly in the thirties and soars into the forties. I assume the stone pavements and roads lock in moisture for the climbers, in addition to them being tolerant of heat. The city receives 950mm of rainfall on average per year, the majority in autumn and winter, making summer very dry. Yet the climbers and trees are healthy.

Climbers we spotted include:

• Evergreen star jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides)

• Deciduous common jasmine (Jasminum officinale)

• Wisteria

• Grape vines (Vitis spp.)

• Many different honeysuckle cultivars (Lonicera spp.)

• Boston ivy (Parthenocissus spp.)

• Common ivy (Hedera spp.)

• Climbing hydrangea in one shaded spot

Because many are twining vines and not self-clinging, they are supported using metal vine eyes and wire. This allows people to create their own climbing network easily around stone features, doors and windows to frame the architecture.

These climbing plants of Bordeaux are an excellent reminder and showcase of what can be achieved with a postage stamp size piece of land and vertical surfaces. Climbers are incredibly easy to grow from a land the size of a side plate, and produce as much greenery as a tree. Producing flowers and even fruit.

In time, the climbers growing around the city will welcome wildlife back in. Every climbing plant adding to the available habitat and nectar. Not to mention cooling the city for residents.

Across the Garonne, away from the old town, we even noticed a new building with a large frame used to grow large climbers all the way up. Helping to create shade and cool the building within.

Thank you to the people of Bordeaux for such a fantastic reminder of the beauty of climbing plants. In recent years living walls with planting pockets have been a focus - we even had one in our old garden to house my collection of fern species - but I no longer believe these are practical nor sustainable. In terms of maintenance and ease, as Bordeaux proves, nothing beats a climber.

Part 2 of gardening in Bordeaux to come soon, please check back!

Wild Way your garden!

Want to make your garden more sustainable and wildlife friendly?

Upgrade to paid to access these lessons and more...

Read more

Read more

When we first moved to Yorkshire we faced a bird flu outbreak in winter and I pointed out that the method of feeding birds was most likely a prime vector for the spread of the disease: bird feeders and bird baths. Things have moved on and the RSPB this week is advising to not artificially feed birds in summer due to the spread of another bird killing disease, trichomonosis. And if you leave out water, to wash bowls at least every day to stop the spread.

Greenfinches are one of the worst affected, seeing a 67% decline in average numbers recorded since 1979 (RSPB Big Garden Bird Watch). We’re lucky to have greenfinches and many other red list birds in our garden and I’m glad what we’ve been doing is now backed up by official recommendations from the RSPB.

So how can we help birds? I plan habitat-first gardens to provide shelter and food naturally and that’s what I practice in our garden (where the name Wild Way of gardening comes from). This includes seeds, fruit and importantly, abundant insects. It’s quite straight forward really, everyone can do it. It’s what happens naturally in the wild and we can replicate that in gardens. We can even enhance it, which is one of the great things about having our clever human minds.

Why are bird feeders and baths a risk for spreading disease?

Bird feeders and baths, though well intentioned, create an unnatural hot spot for many birds to visit a tiny area, causing the following problems:

1. An unnatural focal point of large quantities of food or a water bowl that sees birds feeding and drinking from the same spot again and again, mixing in each other’s poo and fluids, which is how a lot of bird diseases spread.

2. Lure birds out into the open so we can see them, which also means they’re more easily seen by predators and targeted because food and water is quite low. (Cats for instance receive a lot of hate - and yes there are often too many cats in one area - but quite often cats only catch sickly birds or those we’ve lured into the open with feeders and bird baths).

3. A short term solution. When people who feed birds move on, they take away a food source many birds have grown dependent on which can then lead to starvation.

4. Dropped food attracts rats close to our homes.

What can we do?

My advice for gardeners wanting to help birds is to:

• Grow plants and habitats that will feed, shelter and offer water for birds naturally. In small gardens you may need to join up with your neighbours for mixed habitat, e.g. you can each grow a different wild shrub or small tree, one garden may have a pond to serve a number of gardens.

• Clean bird baths daily or rely on a larger natural pond

• Clean nesting boxes in winter - but only take them down briefly to clean, then put them back up, birds can still shelter or examine them for nesting suitability through winter.

Key habitats to grow for birds

The main idea behind the Wild Way of gardening ethos is to provide food by thinking habitat-first for wildlife, growing habitat that is sustainable longterm, including:

• Small trees: for nesting, food, shade and a safe perch away from predators.

• Hedges / dense shrubs: really important for safe nesting, especially with spiky shrubs - also important for food.

• Herbaceous: primarily perennials but also self-sowing annuals and biennials, anything that produces seed and habitat for insects.

• Low grass: important for the likes of corvids and blackbirds that browse for worms.

• Keep dead stems standing: for the seeds birds eat but also for insects to shelter over winter for bird food either in winter or next year (Read full guide to chop and dropping stems in late-winter).

• Leaf litter: keep fallen leaves to support ground insects, molluscs and encourage worms into the leaf little. Birds will rummage through this for food in winter (Read full guide on keeping fallen leaves).

• Pond: a large water expanse is less likely to see disease spread than a small bird bath. As long as a pond has a shallow sloped side, birds can bathe and drink. Ponds also attract a large amount of insects that add to bird food (Read full ponds in garden ecosystems guide 🔒).

What do birds eat?

• Insects: overlooked but vital, almost all birds eat insects like moths, aphids, as well as molluscs, snails and slugs. The more insects your garden attracts, the more food for birds - a healthy garden ecosystem with lots of insects does not need extra bird feed. And this is true in winter too. A garden in winter may appear empty but aphids, caterpillars and other insects are around in large numbers in a healthy garden ecosystem.

• Fruit: small crab apples, berries, haws of hawthorn - almost all fruit is eaten by birds and many ripen at different points of the year for a slow release natural food.

• Seeds: birds will eat ripe seed, especially smaller garden birds including the many finches, tits, blackbirds and wrens.

15 plants for bird food and habitat

Our garden is a haven for birds even though we haven’t artificially fed our birds for five years. The populations here are currently stable. While our garden is large, what we have can be replicated everywhere (our old inner city garden was 5 x 6m). Below are the plants I’ve noticed are the most important and usable in small to medium size gardens.

1) Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna)

I’ve included hawthorn in the vast majority of my garden designs because I think it is extraordinarily beautiful and because it is excellent for wildlife. This smallish tree supports hundreds of insect species and is highly tolerant of pruning. Making it a beautiful candidate for a spiky dense hedge for nesting. Birds eat the insects all over it and the haws (its fruit) in winter. The haws are one of the last trees to ripen, making it an essential early winter snack for birds.

(Read full hawthorn design guide 🔒)

2) Crab apples (Malus sylvestris)

Another small tree I include in most of my designs is crab apple. The wild species is beautiful but cultivars all ripen at different times, giving birds a potential long period with a lot of fruit. I’ll cover my recommended crab apples in more detail in a future newsletter. Of course, crab apples are stylish, colourful and have lots of spring blossom for insects.

3) Holly (Ilex aquifolium)

Unfairly maligned among some gardeners, holly is excellent for wildlife. Its evergreen spiky nature makes one of the best natural habitats for hedgehogs and birds. In winter female plants have red berries loved by birds. These ripen toward mid-winter solstice. Holly can be clipped into a dense hedge too.

(Read full holly design guide 🔒)

4) Knapweed (Centaurea nigra)

Goldfinch lurve knapweed. If that’s not reason enough to grow it, I don’t know what is. They aren’t the only ones, most small birds will eat the seeds - our plants often have nothing left which is currently restricting their ability to self sow! Also great for attracting late-summer insects… yes, that birds eat. You get the picture now with insects so I’ll stop repeating that point.

(Read full knapweed design guide 🔒)

5) Ivy (Hedera helix)

Another much hated plant but I love ivy! Ivy is beautiful and once it grows tall enough vertically, it produces flowers for insects in summer followed by very late ripening black berries eaten by birds. Its dense evergreen nature makes it excellent shelter for birds and nesting sites.

6) Echinops spp.

I had dreams of a beautiful Piet Oudolf style winter garden of seedheads but no chance. Birds eat all of the seedheads in our garden and first to go is Echinops, any cultivar will do. No sooner are the seeds ripe, the seedheads vanish, gobbled by all of the birds.

7) Elderflower (Sambucus nigra)

Just pipping hawthorn to the post for most planted small tree in my garden designs is elderflower. I love, love, love its flowers and leaves. Which attract myriad insects, especially aphids, which tits patrol for. In late-summer to autumn its black berries are one of the first to be eaten by birds.

(Read full elderflower design guide 🔒)

8) Teasel (Dipsacus fullonum)

Teasel is one of my favourite designer plants, it also happens to produce a lot of seeds eaten by finch species. Easy and wonderful.

(Read full teasel design guide 🔒)

9) Blackberry

Ripening in the middle summer and continuing for a month or two, blackberry is an excellent bird supporting fruit. They’re tasty for us as well. Their flowers and leaves attract lots of insects.

(Read full blackberry design guide 🔒)

10) Raspberry

Summer raspberry crop in the first half of summer in one go, autumn raspberry crop from mid-summer until autumn. Good for us, good for birds. We grow enough for us and wildlife.

11) Red currant

One fruit I can’t beat the birds to, they sit on the plant unripe and we only know they are ready when they vanish. A cheeky blackbird chuckling at us from the hedge.

12) Honeysuckle (Lonicera periclymenum)

One of our native wild scramblers, honeysuckle attracts a lot of moths - good bird and bat food. And it produces berries in summer for birds. They don’t last long.

13) Rowan (Sorbus aucuparia)

A lovely medium sized tree with creamy flowers followed by summer red berries for birds.

14) Thistles

All of the wild thistles produce seeds similar to knapweed eaten by birds. Ornamental thistles such as Cirsium produce the same and are a bit better behaved by not spreading as much.

15) Wild grasses

Not just for seeds but for insects that eat them - many moth and butterfly larvae eat the leaves. They also shelter or remain active in them during winter when birds may find and eat them. A mini meadow is ideal because it will provide lots of food for birds - even if the food isn’t immediately obvious.

16) Dandelion (Taraxacum spp.)

Finches, wrens and other small birds eat the seeds of dandelion clocks. I’ve also noticed they nibble the leaves. I really like the flowers of dandelions as well as the seedheads. Grown in grass the leaves are less noticeable, which is the bit people don’t like so much in gardens.

(Read full dandelion design guide 🔒)

Find out more

Please check out the RSPB website for more information and consider becoming a member to support the charity’s important work. As a member I recently had a day out at their Bempton Cliffs and it was an extraordinary experience.

I’ve also written more on this topic in this past article on feeding birds naturally.

I hope that has given you lots of food for thought, and perhaps even more natural food for birds!

I purposely didn’t include annual plants like sunflowers because while they are great, they require us to sow them. Whereas I am interested in self-supporting habitats. I also didn’t include large trees like oak because, while these are great and there are lots of big trees to help birds, I wanted to keep it practical for gardens.

Have I missed any? Which plants do you grow that produce food or insects for birds?

p.s. I’ve made this post free to help share my experience across gardens with as many people as quickly as possible at a point when I know many are worried about the new advice to not feed birds. I do have a £26/year paid subscription with extra guides if you are interested or want to help support my work. Thank you as ever.

Cowslip is one of Europe’s common native plants that saw a big decline in the UK post-World War II due to habitat destruction from ploughing grassland. These days in Yorkshire I see it mainly on steep grassy banks lining A-roads toward the east and north of the county. It’s far more common in the south of the UK.

It took me a few years in our garden to discover a single cowslip in our coppice where it almost certainly was planted by a previous owner. I left it for a couple of years to tough it out but decided in autumn to hoik it up to a less competitive spot in our garden.

I’m glad I did. I was able to easily divide that one plant into three. A few months later each division has already grown to full size, happily flowering in different spots of our garden.

Using cowslip in design

I’m planning to encourage the spread of cowslip in two key areas:

1. Garden: as one of our key low-growing spring plants to form a light yellow wash through our main garden.

2. Wilder area: primarily filled with na…

Read more

Wishing you a very happy long weekend filled with flowers and chocolate! To help inspire you, I thought I’d send a roundup email of useful articles filled with spring gardening ideas.

I know I’m often saying you don’t have to do all the garden tasks thrown at us but I’ll level with you, this is the weekend where we do have give a burst of energy to sow seeds, divide plants and make plant moves.

Ground is still wet, rain will still come and summer’s dry is long enough away for plants to get established if we act now.

I’m going to set you three simple challenges for this weekend:

1. Find a plant to divide and spread around you garden for free

2. Look for seedlings of a plant and move those seedlings around

3. Pause with a cup of tea and try to spot different insects

Nothing onerous but good for our hearts and minds.

Most of the plants in our garden have been grown for free by dividing. This is the process of cutting one plant into two or more pieces and then growing them as separate plants. Over the course of five years I’ve grown hundreds of plants in this way saving us a thousand pounds or more. It’s also a fast way of growing because divisions are usually fully grown plants ready to roll. Division is done on herbaceous perennial plants, the ones that live from year to year and generally grow larger with more growing points.

How to divide plants

Read more

The temperature isn’t the only thing rising in our garden. With spring comes the start of a steaming hot orgy that lasts for months. This morning, mist hangs in the mild air as greenfinch and goldfinch sing to their lovers. Bumblebees stock up on pollen to take back to their love dens. Sex is on all of our minds.

In May my partner Chris and I will have been together for twenty years. We first met in December 2005 at a friend’s house party on Abbeville Road in Clapham South, London. I remember his dark brown Italian eyes, smooth lips, muscular body and open friendliness - but mostly those eyes. In hindsight I suspect it was love at first sight, not just lust, though at the time I rejected that idea for fear of being hurt. We chatted but ultimately I headed off with a friend to see Girls Aloud at G-A-Y when it was in the legendary Astoria, since demolished. Part of me wanted to stay, drawn to him like a magnet, but back then I had priorities.

Months later, I kept thinking of him, and the same friend who hosted the house party set me and Chris up on a date. Our friend organised dinner at his but mysteriously wasn’t there, his housemate let me and Chris in. While we waited we watched Scully being abducted by aliens in the X-Files, dated special effects making us laugh, and talked in the living room until our mutual friend arrived. A few dates happened, Chris persevering with my frustrating shyness back then. He kissed me in Astoria on the central stage with flashing lights and the dancing throng around us. It was a moment in slow motion. Eventually, some weeks later, at the end of a night out in the Two Brewers in Clapham, we went home together and that was that. The next morning my housemates caught a glimpse of his muscular gym body in his boxers and when he left, we all stood open mouthed at my luck. One said “he is f**cking hot” and we all laughed as I said “I know” in disbelief.

Time flew on, as it does. We rented a flat, begged our landlady to let us have a cat, and then were lucky to buy the flat from them. It was our home, where we lived and loved each other - somehow feeling out of place as adults with these real adult things. It’s where my love of gardening returned, entwined with my life with Chris - or Topher as I always call him, unless I’m grumpy. The thing about Topher is, he’s supportive and encouraging in a way I’d only experienced before with my family. Others had laughed at or quashed my love of gardening and wildlife, whereas Chris came with me to the garden centres and helped carry the plants. He defended and was proud of what I did.

During the height of my obsession to learn to be a better gardener, revising night after night for exams, I saw Monty Don advertise a new series of his show Big Dreams, Small Spaces. I applied on behalf of both of us to have Monty mentor the revamp our garden. Part of me wanted Monty to love what we came up with, another part wanted to do my bit for the LGBTQ+ community as a gay couple to show our relationship. We both felt some kind of obligation to do our bit for future generations to say “yes, it’s OK to be in a relationship like ours” in the way braver generations before had done for us.

Due to the show’s ‘big garden reveal’ date landing at the start of September, from that moment the planting centred on Topher’s birthday. I’ve planned gardens around that date ever since. But our garden is filled with my love and desire for him beyond that. Although Topher leaves me to get on with the gardening as I want, I’ve always thought of the garden as jointly ours - back in London and here in Yorkshire. He is constantly in my mind, constantly present and constantly a part of it.

I’ve never particularly thought of being gay or queer as part of my identity - although it obviously is - because I spend all of my time thinking about gardening, wildlife and art. Those are my identity and infinitely more interesting than who I have sex with. And yet, I am gay, I am queer I suppose, and all of those parts of me, including my sexuality, are infused with our garden. Gardens are gardens because we make them and like it or not, who we are - from who we live with to our politics, views and actions - are part of our gardens whether we like it or not. There’s no escaping it. Which is a sign of gardens being art as much as any other.

Being gay and growing up as part of the gay world - as we thought of it back in my youth - has shaped who I am and for the better. I am so thankful that I am gay and could grow up in that world. A world that encouraged and sought equality, acceptance of difference and a progressive mindset. “I am what I am, I am my own special creation. So come take a look, give me the hook, or the ovation” sung Gloria Gaynor. That was my interpretation of it, that’s what I took from it, standing up for what is right. Celebrating desire and love as much as creativity, equality and individuality.

Sexuality in gardens is a huge and fascinating topic and yet we shy away from it. Talking about sex is still considered crass by some and yet, as plants and wildlife remind us in summer, it is a beautiful part of who we are. Being naked with one another consensually is one of the more innocent and disarming moments in life. Most people enjoy sex or the feelings of love and being loved. Whether we are gay, straight or other, we will all have experienced feelings toward other people in gardens at some point. The evidence is everywhere in the arts.

I read The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng a long time ago, a sexually charged and complex love story centred around a masterpiece garden called Yugiri in the mountains. Its story has stayed with me for the aftermath and trauma of Japanese occupation of Malaya in WWII but primarily for its depiction of a lifelong and passionate love reflected in the slow, tender and emotive creation of a garden. It tapped into something deep within me as a human and as a gardener.

Film director Emerald Fennel is currently making headlines with her sexually charged take on Wuthering Heights. Coincidentally the original story is set across the moor from our garden, a love story as turbulent and unstoppable as the wilderness its set in. Not a garden but to me it taps into the same emotive link we have with love and outside spaces. Fennel’s previous film, Saltburn, is full of lustful scenes of sun soaked naked flesh in the garden of the manor in which its set.

Artist David Hockney’s famous early work celebrates lovers naked in gardens. Gardens remain a subject of his work today, and though they lack the explicit sexuality of before, they are still charged with excitement. There are countless other examples of our fascination and exploration of the human body and sex in all forms of art, and you’ll notice the more you look, this is often linked to the garden setting. Gardens and sex are part of individual stories.

Twenty years since we first met and I love Chris more than ever and still feel my heart beat faster when I think of his eyes and body. Our garden represents so many things, especially my lifelong mission for equality and nature. It also represents years of daily thoughts about Chris and discussion with him. Of the inspiration he gives me to keep going. It is a physical and living representation of our relationship and lives together.

At this time of year I’m excited each morning to get out of bed and check seed trays for germination and emerging perennials in the garden. Gardening is such a positive addition to my life - even if it’s a single pot of tomato seeds on a windowsill, it is fun. Everyday something to look forward to.

I’m also going easy on myself this year. I’ve found that because I write about growing food, I’ll admit I feel so much pressure to grow everything imaginable. If I’m honest, that can take the fun out of what should be an enjoyable pastime. This year I’m trying to reclaim the fun even if it means I’m not growing ten million different cultivars to share in magazines and on social media.

Right now however I am concentrating on jumpstarting the allotment.

Dear deers, please vacate the allotment

First on our project list is keeping animals to their allotted areas. I love the wild roe deer and they have free reign of the meadow but growing food is challenging enough without them helping themselves before us.

I’ll admit I lost my veg buzz last year because the deer and pheasants kept setting things back significantly. Up until then, the deer weren’t much of a problem on the plot. Now deer chomp most plants and pheasants dig up potatoes. So last week our friend Graham and I began deer fencing the allotment to deter the fluffy-eared-ones.

Our two chickens are adorably cute but they are also allotment hooligans. They cause havoc in freshly sown seed beds, these higher fences will stop them too.

As for pheasants, answers on a postcard. I ended up netting lots of crops last year, which isn’t ideal because it adds an extra job and a barrier to picking crops.

Polytunnel shenanigans

Down in the polytunnel I need to talk about wrens. My first batch of lettuces were growing nicely until a clever wren figured out how to hop in above the door. Nipping the top off every seedling! I’m starting again with ‘Red Salad Bowl’, green ‘Till’ and speckled 'Flashy Butter Oak Bicolour Oakleaf’. Old compost bags have been duly stuffed into the gap - barriers are the best way of separating wildlife from crops.

Germinating in the ground of the polytunnel are pea ‘Meteor’, radish ‘French Breakfast’, turnips ‘Goldana’ and ‘Tokyo Cross’, and beetroot. My plan is to grow these fast crops undercover while we sort the deer fencing. We should have eaten these vegetables by the time the tomatoes get planted in the poly in May.

Alongside veg seedlings I’m propagating lots of tomatoes from runners and some wild primrose plugs to a larger size before they go out (shown above).

I’m also readying a veritable army of perennial flowers for our main garden to inject loads of colour into it. Last year I grew three different coloured hardier penstemon from seed and divided more geum ‘Totally Tangerine’. In recent weeks I’ve been dividing Helenium, Astrantia, Geranium and others for more free plants.

The challenge I’m finding with a bigger garden (I know, first world problems) is that there are so many plants I’m not sure where I can fit all of these yet! I’m waiting for the garden to grow a little to make sure I avoid planting on top of existing plants.

I don’t want to wait too long though, I need them in the ground while it’s still wet and raining to form deep roots for summer. I won’t need to water them in if it’s still wet.

Outdoor propagation station

Directly outside the polytunnel is the table I move seedlings to when they’re a little larger, or start here if fully hardy. The wren doesn’t care about this lot!

Lots of the above plants are cuttings, seedlings and divisions from last year left outdoors in peat free compost all winter. I know people talk a lot about nutrition of peat free compost but as you can see from all of the plants I’m sharing, everything is growing just fine. And I haven’t fed them at all yet!

The benefit of a raised table like this is it keeps vulnerable veg seedlings away from slugs and snails until the plants are larger to tolerate nibbles.

Carefree tomatoes

Tomatoes are part of my chill out plan. I only just sowed ours yesterday - on the heat mat in the background of the above photo - and this year I’m growing just three cultivars. One cherry ‘Artisan Bumblebee Mix’ (in red and yellow), one salad ‘Gardeners Delight’ and one beefsteak‘Brandy Boy’.

I plan to give tomato vines twice as much space as normal to receive more light. I suspect it will increase yield per plant - more tomatoes for even less effort.

Other annual veg I’m sowing this week are mangetout and dill. I’ll also plant out the potatoes at some point.

Perennial payoff

Another reason I’m feeling relaxed this spring is because in recent years I’ve gone crazy planting perennial crops in a number of different edible plant communities. These are coming through strongly without me having to do very much at all. Which is brilliant news.

I have a range of beds including the above low-ish growing leaf bed, a larger bulky crop bed by the shed, tonnes of fruit bush communities and a number of woodland edible areas under fruit and nut trees. I find it a fun way of growing food because of their reliability, planning them as I would any ornamental bed. More on this through the year!

Annual crops

One of my favourite beds on the allotment is the one I use for salads each year. It’s only a few metres in size and always easy to maintain - though the deer decimated it last year.

I’ve hoe-d the salad bed once and will give it a second pass next time it’s dry. Then I will sow carrots, radish, beets, Florence fennel and plant out the lettuce. I won’t sow spring onions because we have lots of perennial onions that taste similar.

I do grow annuals in the perennial beds too, a polyculture, but crop rows exist for a reason. In the annual bed I plant in rows for speed and reduced effort when it comes to weeding and harvesting. Hoeing between rows is a doddle and it’s easy to nip up a row picking leaves.

Further reading

• Aggregate gardens: don’t give up on soil yet (Financial Times) - in the paper on Saturday or access this pay walled article by going through Google News search

• Why is low maintenance a dirty term? (Gardens Illustrated) - my new column in April’s mag, out next week

• 10 best fruit and veg for less hassle and higher yields (The Guardian) - my column with tips for making your plot more efficient

Have a wonderful time in the garden this weekend!

In spring it’s possible to catch the migration of thousands of wildlife photographers arriving at RSPB Bempton Cliffs. Lumbered with approximately 90%* of all long lens cameras in the UK (*just a guess). The grey cliffs of Yorkshire also happen to see the nesting of many important sea and land birds.

Setting out on the long drive from Hebden Bridge to the coast, an ethereal haze softens the bright yellow sun and turns the distant hills and trees a milky blue. The coast is my goal and it doesn’t matter how long it takes to get there. I need a break from routine to shake my head out of stress and into a better mindset.

As I step through the RSPB welcome centre, I still haven’t seen the sea despite driving toward it for miles. Here the cliffs are so high and today the distant horizon too hidden. I skirt the grassland first and a kindly fellow photographer points to a goldcrest which I watch fly from bush to bush but am not fast enough to photograph.

Strolling toward the main event, the sea finally comes into view and I breathe out deeply. The top of the cliffs are lined with day tripping wildlife lovers walking along the miles of reserve. When I finally reach the edge I meet a breathtaking scene. A 100m drop straight down with birds soaring or resting with occasional echoing calls.

Razorbill

First to catch my eye are what look like a pair or pengiuns but are in fact razorbills (Alca torda). They preen each other lovingly and dance with affection.

Another pair sleep nearby. Looking up on occasion to the humans watching them. Their black and white markings impossibly clean and crisp.

Gannet

One gannet fairly close to the path obliging poses for my camera (Morus bassanus). I’m struck by how large they are and a noticeboard of life size images puts these huge birds into scale. I imagine its near metre wingspan if it were next to me.

With striking pale blue eyes and bulbous head, some were out fishing and others collecting plant material for nests.

It’s a wonder how the birds perch and sleep so high on these towering cliffs.

Nests of the birds line strata of the rock faces. For thousands of years they will have done this, making use of the rock feature itself formed over billions of years. How entwined everything on Earth is.

Kittiwake

Friendly looking gull family member, the kittiwake (Rissa tridactyla) seemed sleepy. I love the name, kittiwake.

Not to be unfair to regular seagulls we’re familiar with - they can’t help their faces look mean - but the kittiwake look so gentle. And they certainly seem quieter and less raucous.

Common linnet

Around the reserve were many more species, including the endangered linnet (Linaria cannabina) nesting in the many areas of scrub. This is a female, the males are brightly coloured.

In someways, while I adore puffins - one of my favourite birds - part of me is glad they weren’t nesting yet. I would almost certainly have paid the gannets and kittiwake less attention. And what an oversight that would have been.

I decide to head off, full of wonder from my close encounter with these birds in this otherworldy spot. I’ll save the owls, puffins and other species for another visit soon.

Join and support the RSPB to help conserve reserves like this.

Today is the spring equinox, which means the Earth’s orbit is at a point where the planet’s tilt now aims the northern hemisphere increasingly at the sun. As a result, from today day length grows longer than night until the summer solstice. Shorter night length and warmth triggers plants into active growth transforming the countryside and our gardens.

It’s sending everything into a spring frenzy, including us gardeners. This week I almost spent more time outdoors than I did in. I want to be outside for every minute I can, planting, growing, photographing birds and listening to their song. Watching them watching me.

Dunnock’s are prepping their nests while our garden borders are starting to rise, quickly covering the cut plant material.

I enjoy the hues and tone of the pale straw coloured stems against glaucous allium and daffodil leaves, warmed by the pink of pulmonaria. Set off by emerging primrose yellow daffodils and vibrant first leaves of waking perennials. It’s all about to change dramatically.

One of the areas I’ve written about most is the patch immediately next to our patio. I stopped weeding this area a couple of years ago to let the plants do all the work. And it has worked. Here the plants I’ve added are outcompeting creeping buttercup, couch grass and even nettles. I’ve since stopped weeding almost altogether in the rest of the garden.

I’m overjoyed with the pink pulmonaria I’ve been dividing and spreading. The colour doesn’t show strongly in the photos because it’s intentionally subtle, but in real life it’s changed our garden. Washing it with a base of warm pink all through spring. And even more exciting, various bumblebee species have been all over them...

I had been worried that bees prefer blue flowered pulmonaria but those concerns have gone. This week I’ve seen queens of white tailed, buff, early and possibly garden bumblebees.

Below our main garden, around the polytunnel, is the more shaded wilder garden. Here I am only planting wildflowers and sparingly spring bulbs. It’s mainly about wildflowers. There were already lots of daffodils I didn’t have the heart of desire to remove. And I love their brightness at this time of year. Around them the primroses are beginning to flower.

Narcissus ‘Tête-à-tête’ is always a little joy in various spots.

Noticeably, in the last two days, leaf buds have burst open in the sunshine and warmth. Above hazel and below lichen encrusted hawthorn.

Pussy willow has burst its buds too, bringing its wonder of pale yellow that entices bumblebees in their thousands.

It’s easy to overlook some flowers, such as the female flowers of hazel and larch. On the larch these are called strobili, below is a photo of the neon pink pineapple shaped female structure. These become the cones. Larch and hazel are monoecious, meaning they have both male and female reproductive organs on the same plant.

Greenfinch in particular have been keeping me company, alongside common finch. The greenfinch have always been here but this year I’ve made an effort to notice them. They’ve been noticing me back...

I won’t tell you to get busy in the garden, enjoy spring equinox today and what looks like a sunny weekend ahead. Perhaps spend some time outdoors looking at nature, planting some things if you wish. Most of all, relax and have fun.

p.s. if you would like to support my work and deep dive into advanced garden design ideas this spring, please consider becoming a paid subscriber for just £26/year. Here is my latest guide for paid subscribers…