Growing Friendships

Gardens are as much about people as plants

The Fritillaria imperialis were hi-vis drama queens (in the best possible way). The ‘Tiny Tails’ fountain grasses, with their arching pink plumes like the fuzzy brushes of exotic foxes, brought texture and movement. And in May, a chorus line of showgirl amaryllis bloomed en masse, which cheered up the recycling cupboard no end.

But the best things I’ve grown this year have been new connections. My little urban space has encouraged even more passersby to stop, look and chat. Some have shared horticultural knowledge. Others have become true friends, proof that the potential to grow the community spirit exists on your very doorstep - or just to the side of it, wherever your garden grows.

I have a little courtyard out back which my husband calls the flower factory and I often heft plants from there to the front. For instance, a potted cerise tree peony is so spectacular, my feeling is why not share it. I’d only see it a couple of times a day but when it’s in full-on flirty flower, it gets to greet hundreds of people. That’s more bang for your bloom.

Gardens are as much about people as plants

The Fritillaria imperialis were hi-vis drama queens (in the best possible way). The ‘Tiny Tails’ fountain grasses, with their arching pink plumes like the fuzzy brushes of exotic foxes, brought texture and movement. And in May, a chorus line of showgirl amaryllis bloomed en masse, which cheered up the recycling cupboard no end. 

But the best things I’ve grown this year have been new connections. My little space has encouraged even more passersby to stop, look and chat. Some have shared valuable horticultural knowledge. Others have become true friends, proof that the potential to grow the community spirit exists on your very doorstep - or just to the side of it, wherever your garden grows. 

Share the show

We have a courtyard out back, which my husband calls the flower factory and I often heft plants from there to the front. For instance, a potted cerise tree peony is so spectacular, my feeling is why not share it. Rather than me seeing it only a couple of times a day, when it’s in full-on flirty flower it gets to greet hundreds of people. That’s more bang for your bloom.

It’s this kind of splash of unexpected beauty in a world of urban busyness that causes people to pause. The creamy froth of a Wedding Dream tulip or the luscious petals of Black Velvet petunias draws us together, neighbours who have different outlooks, different experiences, different stories to tell. There’s the gloriously statuesque girl from the States who loves cats and ballet and is digitally literate to a degree I can barely comprehend. Having met her over the garden wall, she joined me for a glass of wine in the hot evening air to muse about love and life.

There’s the chatty woman who invited me for her authentically-brewed Ethiopian coffee. Shading us from the sun was a banana tree (which isn’t actually a tree at all but the world’s largest herb). I’m trying to propagate Cotinus ‘Royal Purple’ cuttings for her. I’m failing. Our friendship isn’t.

Another lady lives down the road has an incredibly stylish front garden, clean-cut with topiary, interspersed with classic red geraniums and left-field tomatoes. She is the most fashionable person of mature years I have ever met. Our gardens brought us together and we're firm friends. We hang out together and she plays music on vinyl, from jazz to Roxy Music. Only yesterday, I was there to pick up a spiky cordyline she no longer had room for – together, we shuffled it out her gate, giggling.

There’s a chap who has a little dog called Lily and tells me where other front gardens are flourishing; the Italian chef who’s big on Instagram; the woman who’s started a beauty company; the countless neighbours who want to know where I get my tulip bulbs from (Peter Nyssen, J Parker’s and Farmer Gracy if you’re asking); and the strapping guy who owns the local fitness studio and who’s supported my mission to ‘Love Your Front Garden’ after stumbling across it in the pages of Good Housekeeping (yes, you read that correctly).

Then there's the family who has commissioned me to design their back garden from scratch - my first proper gardening job and perhaps the start of a career pivot. Sourcing two Portuguese laurel trees has led me to Form Plants in Surrey, surely one of the most stylish nurseries ever – it has sofas, a reference library, free coffee and everything!