As the college holidays are all but a distant dream and the weather is daring us all to venture out without a fleece, the Hadlow College year is rapidly hotting up. I am already experiencing more than a few fingers of fear when I think about the topic of homework – not because of lack of desire but more to do with absence of spare hours. Those long warm weeks of summer have gone in a flash and although I have enjoyed visiting gardens under the NGS opening scheme, a trip to Wisley and many lingering visits to plant nurseries during which I studied labels with the intensity of a praying mantis, my books remained neatly closed.
I have, however, been visually studying people's gardens and notice that mine is a very poor example of good design. It consists mainly of things that people have given me, illicit cuttings from various walks, sprouted seeds of dubious ancestry and plants that have parachuted in from elsewhere. On odd occasions I have bought just one appealing specimen and popped it proudly amongst ill-matched neighbours. Not for me the bold drifts, coordinated colours and cleverly arranged textures enjoyed by those who have grasped the elements of good design. I am humbled by the fact that I haven't noticed my garden shortcomings before.
So, in an effort to right some of my wrongs and bring some sort of unity to my jumble of colours (mainly green), I have decided to buy not one but three glorious standard roses and position them lovingly in the front garden bed by the path. I was tempted, as usual, to buy a mixture of colours but will resist. Pink will be perfect, but I will allow myself the luxury of choosing three different varieties.
My first, and so far only, purchase is one which makes me immensely happy. Rosa 'Lucky!', an award-winning floribunda full standard, awash with sweet smelling blooms and alive with humming insects too, is standing proudly awaiting attention. I marvel at its floriferous ability to brighten even the dullest day and can't imagine why I previously shunned roses because of the evilness of their thorns. What else will flower throughout the entire warm(ish) season and demand so little of its carer?
The research for two more varieties has been a joy and I have been seduced by many, including 'Tickled Pink' and 'Fascination'. But as yet I have been unable to find these particular roses in standard form – so like a hunter on the trail of big game, the search is all the sweeter. I welcome knowledge from those who have trodden the path before me…
On which note I will return to a charming garden in the tiny village of Markbeech in Kent, which I visited during an open day with a couple of my college chums. The partly walled cottage garden surrounds a 15th-century listed farmhouse and it is filled with everything you might expect to find, and more. The well-organised trail around the grounds was a delight, but even more unexpected was the host's friendly daughter. She revealed that she too is a product of Hadlow College, having graduated with a degree in something that sounded quite posh and preceded the current garden design course. It was heartening to learn that 16 or so years after qualifying, she is fully employed in the London area, designing and maintaining gardens. But, as also confirmed by a garden designer I chanced to meet at the Edenbridge and Oxted show, there is not enough garden design work to keep the wolf from the door. Hardly surprising, as this, surely, lies at the luxury end of life's necessities.
For my part, I really can't imagine being confident or knowledgeable enough to tackle large, lucrative design projects anytime in the near future. If the entire county of Kent was knocking on my door and clamouring for their own outdoor designer heaven, I would have to pretend to be out. But in truth they wouldn't get as far as the front door before suspecting they might have the wrong address.
But now having commenced the second year of my part-time garden design course at Hadlow, I realise the time to learn about designing has eventually arrived. We managed to negotiate the entire first year by learning about many things apart from plants and gardens – but after one week into the new regime it is clear that we are all wearing different hats. I'm just hoping mine will fit.
