Lush.

This evening the air in my garden hangs heavy with the pungent stink of sheep manure. My beagles are high on the aroma yet disappointed that a picket fence separates them from one of their favourite flavours. Even my husband commented that he could smell that I'd been busy.

I'm ashamed to admit that I've been neglecting my garden....that is up until the weekend when I really got stuck in....ripping out three towering wheelbarrows full of weeds and spent plants....and then this morning, in a feverish blaze of activity, I heavy handedly strewed manure over the mixed borders and started on thickly laying out the sugar cane mulch.

This whirlwind of gardening activity has been inspired by one of the most stunningly beautiful gardens in Hobart that I have ever seen.  I've been toiling away writing an article about it while berating myself about the dismal state of my garden at the same time. See for yourself, isn't it utterly breathtaking:

Photo: Richard Marks

Photo: Richard Marks

Photo: Richard Marks

It's nothing short of a symphony of verdant manicured lawns, winding gravel paths, private garden rooms, a seasonally productive kitchen garden and vibrant mixed borders. Everything that I long for in my own garden....and after eight long years of work still haven't managed to achieve. But wait there's more.....Pierre de Ronsard roses are everywhere...and to further enhance their beauty they are entangling themselves in specially designed wrought iron obelisks to help them reach for the sky. Sigh. The colour and texture of the really spectacular plantings frame gorgeous views which hover over the CBD and extend over the river:

Photo: Richard Marks

It is a gardening idyll.

I've been further feeding my gardening angst by rereading Adam Nicholson's 'Sissinghurst: An Unfinished History'. What an incredibly powerful book about an exceptional place. It brought tears to my eyes reading Adam Nicholson's description of his father described by a friend as 'He is a cold man who wants to be warm, and cannot be.' And don't get me started on the descriptions of Sissinghurst the garden and the quest to refarm the surrounding land according to organic principles to provide the food to serve in the restaurant and to sell in the shop.....there are pages and pages describing the various soils in lurid detail....and it is unputdownable, truly. 

I dragged my husband to Sissinghurst in 2004, back when we had a quick trip to London and Paris to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary.....leaving the two children that we had at the time at home. It was very early April and it was freezing cold and none of the flowers had really come out yet. He bore up quite well considering. Our visit must have been in the last months before Adam Nicholson's father passed away....before all of the changes discussed in this book were set in motion. I'm planning another trip to Sissinghurst this year....without my husband, this time. So, if I'm not going to be reduced to a gibbering wreck with severe garden angst, I'd better keep putting in the hard yards in my own garden.....I've got a lot of work ahead of me.

Rx