The Wasteland: loss and longing 

“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish?

T S Eliot

We all need space in order to flourish. It could be time to ourselves, time to think, time to stand back so that we can see the wood from the trees. For a garden, since we are the enabler, the designer, it means space for our chosen plants to spread and be themselves.

Men at work...

The garden in Dorset is small and nearly all of the plantable area is overshadowed with bushes that have grown too large for the space and depleted the soil of nutrients. They must be pulled out to make way for the chosen plants that will enhance rather than just occupy.

I don't feel up to the task of pulling out the bushes myself, so we ask a local firm of tree surgeons to do it for us. When they have done their work, the garden looks worse than it did before – a bit of a wasteland. We keep a small cypress, an acer and and a viburnum, as well as the hydrangea petiolaris, honeysuckle, ornamental vine and rose that cling to the walls.