I have spent more years gardening than I care to remember.
In the first few years of marriage, there was no time to garden.
Working and children were top of the list, the garden a very poor second.
My first garden was manicured to within an inch of it's life.
Everything orderly and neat. Looking back, was I truly happy with it..............no.
We moved, another garden...............this time just grass.......children and dogs took centre stage.
I always had a longing. To create a garden for wildlife..............a garden like my Grandma's, chaotic but controlled.
When Dad was alive we would chat every day about the garden. A quick call, a simple "How is your garden today." Oh how I miss those calls.
I now have the garden I dreamed of. Am I happy, yes, more than I can say. The beautiful thing about ageing is that you do not worry so much about the detail. If colours clash because mother nature takes a hand here and there, you just enjoy it :)
Dad never worried about colour schemes.............he just enjoyed the flowers. I think I may be turning into my Father. Slowly over the last few years, I am taking a more relaxed attitude to this garden.
It works for me.............I have never felt so happy.