For as long as I can remember, I’ve been waiting for this moment: the chance to build a garden of my own. I have moved 27 times in my relatively short life so far. At 44, I’m not entirely sure I have another move left in me. I’d like to think I don’t, although life changes as surely as a garden grows. 

I’ve had tiny courtyard gardens. I’ve gardened in spaces that belonged to partners and parents. I’ve worked in hundreds of gardens for clients. But creating your own garden is an entirely different prospect. As I begin shaping this space, I find myself questioning whether a garden is best designed or evolved, or whether, as is so often the case, it is really a combination of the two.

There is a certain whimsy that comes from a lifetime spent looking at gardens, working in gardens, and imagining gardens still to come. Part of me wants to do something entirely different, to challenge myself, to step outside my comfort zone, and to experiment with ideas and techniques that my clients may never have chosen for themselves.

So there will be willow weaving. There will be a grotto in honour of my ancestors, tucked into a woodland moon garden. There is a vegetable area, perhaps framed by a living arbour. And somewhere, absolutely somewhere, there must be a swing seat.

Gardens are romantic things. They hold our hopes about how we want to live, how we want to spend time with family, and the kind of memories we hope to grow alongside the plants themselves.

So far, my own garden has evolved more than it has been formally designed. I have worked with what I already had: plants in need of reviving, impulsive garden centre purchases, leftovers from show gardens that would perish if not planted somewhere quickly. I’ve worked with what I could afford too, because, as we all know, the cobbler’s children often go barefoot.

The benefits of proper design are obvious. A plan gives direction. It creates cohesion, reduces piecemeal decisions, and allows a space to develop with clarity and purpose. There is enormous value in that.

But there is also great joy in allowing a garden to evolve slowly, piece by piece, flower by flower. There is creativity in working alongside nature and happenstance rather than trying to control every detail. For me, that process has become something of an antidote to the structure and demands of my professional life, a strange, radical kind of joy.

For now, then, I will continue evolving the space, though there are, admittedly, a few knotty areas still to resolve. And there is no doubt that some problems are best solved on paper, with a plan and a clear vision.

So this garden, this lovely labour of a lifetime, remains a work in progress. Something to return to, reshape, rethink, and nurture over time. And perhaps that is the real gift of having a garden of your own at last.

Lucie Giselle Ponsford                                                                                                                                                    

Creative Director & Founder/ Head Garden Designer.

Landline: 01844 396 881

Mob: 07737286784

Offices: Sanderum Centre, 38, Oakley Road, Chinnor, OX39 4TW

http://www.mimosagardendesign.com/

https://www.facebook.com/lucie.ponsford/