Living in the country I often think about the nature of light. In a town there is so much artificial light that it becomes a question of wether the sun is shining or not, wheras in the country I notice the variations in the light even on sunny days. In autumn this becomes all the more pronounced, because light takes on a completely different quality as the sun begins to hang lower in the sky. The first thing I notice around the end of September is how much warmer the light is in the mornings and evenings, and then that as autumn progresses the brightness of the light at midday stands in even ..read more

August has crept up on me quietly like the nights that keep getting darker and longer. Unlike spring that tends to arrive with a dramatic increase in light and the fanfare of returning birds, autumn arrives by stealth. Towards the end of the month the birds begin emigrating south again, and there is a rush of noise when they call out to their flock to fall in line and form ploughs, but for most of the month there is a silent lushness softly hugging me as I tend the gardens. The first half of the summer was intensely dry with hardly any rain, and then towards the middle of July when the rains ..read more

As I always seek perfection it is rare that I feel satisfied with my garden, and yet there are so many parts of it that are absolutely gorgeous at the moment. Amongst these is the giant catnip, Nepeta Six Hills Giant, which this year have put on a beautiful show. It is such a great perennial, surviving weeks of dry weather even in the poorest soil. This year my climbers too have - finally! - put on a great show. Perhaps their roots have grown deep enough for them to reward my many years of patience with a good show of flowers? The climbers in the pictures above are deep red honeysuckle Lonic ..read more

We've had the longest dry spell this summer, with six weeks of no rain. I've been looking at the gardens drying out week after week, and as I only water new plants most of my borders have been looking sad. The plants that have put down deep roots have survived, but flowered sparingly or gone to seed early. Normally I have a sea of brilliantly purple Allium giganteum filling up the woodland garden at Humlegård, but this year they put on a bleak show before withering. I was all the more pleased then, that at the red house my 'new' statue border put on a fantastic display! Lady's mantle (Alchem ..read more

An extempore trip driving through Germany last week ended with the welcome respite of visiting another botanical garden. Having spent most of the last few years at home on the farm, I had quite forgotten how stressful it is to drive along large and super busy motorways and to be honest I found it quite exhausting. My friend Maria turned up to help share the burden, and I was really grateful to have a co-driver! Maria and I have travelled a lot together, and she wasn't in the least surprised that all roads lead to some kind of garden. It gives me great pleasure to "collect" visits to botanica ..read more

This years winter was long and rich in snow, but suddenly, in just a few weeks, it all melts and spring arrives for real. Lulu the snow dog is the only one who is sad that the seasons are changing, as she loves the snow more than anyone I know, whereas I rejoice at watching it disappear. It has been fascinating watching it literally melting infront of my eyes, with a few meters of the snow blanket disappearing each day and it all vanishing within a week. Outside the red house there is an ugly electricity box that blocks the view of the house like an irritating eyesore mocking me every time I ..read more

A few weeks ago the snow had thawed and I was happily looking forwards to spring, and then... it started to snow again. "Hurrah!" said Lulu the snow monster, and "Jee!" said my darling daughter who has spent the last five winters in Europe with early spring, but the chicken and I agreed that there is too much of a good thing. Winter is great, but endless winter is just endless. We have already moved the clocks forward to springtime, but apparently no one told the weather that. Still, I like the quiet early mornings in winter. As the world is covered in snow there is no rush to do anything bu ..read more

As I have said this winter was tough, and so it was with a special kind of joy that I took a little holiday to West Dean College in England for a course in DSLR cameras. I have a new camera called Mark (as in Canon EOS mark IV) that I found hard to get to grips with. I'm not very technical, and I compared it to any new relationship. "Oh, Mark is so difficult!" I complained, "he is over intelligent, super complicated and I really don't know if I can make this work!" But I'm not one to give up, and so Mark and I went on a make-or-break holiday over a long weekend. The course was run by Jacqui ..read more

There is nothing as beautiful as when the light returns after a long, dark winter. As quickly as the round-a-clock darkness descends in November, the light in the evenings return in February. Mornings too get brighter, and soon there will be no need for candles on the table as I drink my morning coffee. The sun comes out after a whole month of grey skies, and both Lulu the dog and I rejoice! This winter was exceptionally dark, both figuratively and metaphorically. My youngest sons long covid insomnia was relentless, which meant we self-isolated throughout the darkest months so as not to brin ..read more

A new year is upon us, and with it all the hope and good intentions a fresh start heralds. Last year was challenging, to say the least, with long covid insomnia stalking my younger (albeit grown-up) son relentlessly and as yet no solution has been found. It is its own form of torture watching a loved one suffer month after month, and it has taught me a lot about a different kind of resilience. Sometimes there is actually nothing one can do about a situation, except to be there. So this year my new years resolutions are all about that: 1 . Make the best of the (crappy) situation We had a small ..read more