Monday 20 September

-

There is a stray Jude the Obscure rose by the little gate into the flower field. It wasn’t meant to be there but when I moved all the roses into the kitchen garden, I couldn’t fit them all in so I dug a hole and shoved it in there. (Similarly, there is a single Graham Thomas in amongst the hazel and the lilacs by the greenhouse door.) I see it more and I see it closer than any of the others. This morning, it is in perfect bud, and it is sprinkled with the most perfect dew. (This photo does not even begin to do it justice.)

Tuesday 21 September

-

And with the dewy mornings, come warm afternoons. I had thought time in the hammock long gone, but I have a few stolen minutes, swinging between the quince and the cherry trees. No quinces though. The crop has failed and there will be no membrillo this year. Blackberries in abundance though. 

Wednesday 22 September

-

I am not one for fetishising tidiness in the garden (or anywhere else for that matter, but with an outside space, I can just mutter something about the wildlife and my chaos magically transforms into virtue) but the difference hoeing the paths has made to my wellbeing is indescribable. Even more so because I didn’t hoe them; Naomi did. I did hoe other things though. I would describe my gardening style as ‘loose’ and there are still plenty of habitats and seed heads throughout, but they are now framed by immaculate hoggin paths. Now it all looks intentional. I start vaguely referring to opening with the NGS next year, a prospect which is met with horror from other members of my family.

(If you do not have paths that need weeding, trimming a hedge or the edges of any grassy areas will have a similarly uplifting effect.)

This is actually a picture by Dean Hearne taken for the book. It is a quiet sort of picture, nothing staged or posed, just a view framed and captured in the moment. I think it is one of my favourites of the whole book, and Jeska and Dean said exactly the same.

Thursday 23 September

-

I write about harvests and dahlias. Documenting the abundance of dinnerplates that I have this year, and the surprising love I have for a bruiser called Bryn Terfel. 

I write about the act of storing and collecting. In the interests of research, I bake shortbread, and in the interests of domestic economy, I roast huge trays of tomatoes with bay and my own garlic. This was something of a mistake as the time for planting more garlic is almost upon us and I have used up the bulbs I was going to use for seed. 

If you are a Gather member, the seasonal journal Gather: Harvest is now published here. If you are not, but you would like to buy the journal, it will be in my digital shop very soon. 

Friday 24 September

-

And so, the book was printed, published, packed and posted. I have about three parcels left to post, and only about six books left unsold from the hundreds that were delivered. At 6pm, I down tools and open a bottle of champagne. 

We made it.

Saturday 25 September

-

More tomatoes, this time with home-made sourdough pasta. (Be warned, it is stickier than your usual.) It has been such a strange season but the tomatoes have loved it. I sense that the autumn is going to be a mild one and I hope for dahlias that go on long into October and roses until Christmas. 

Sunday 26 September

-

I often want to impart the advice, not original in terms of garden designers, that some time spent on the areas of your outside space that you see a lot is seldom wasted. My kitchen window looks out into the courtyard. It is half hoggin and half concrete. It is half storage area and outdoor workshop. It is half something and half nothing and it is not inspiring in the least. It has however, grown amazing cherry tomatoes in a big, galvanised tank. 

They are now over so I cut off the stems, leaving the roots intact to rot into and feed the soil and fill the gaps with late bedding cosmos and some spare Thunbergia alata 'African Sunset' that I have knocking around. The effect is immediate, and then promptly ruined by me putting the washing out to dry. 

However, the lesson of the hoggin paths (see Wednesday) is still fresh in my mind and I commit to weeding, clearing and straightening the edges very soon. But first, I might just sit on the bench with a cup of tea, and just enjoy the wild.

This sitting down did not last very long. There is rain forecast across Somerset tonight, and also a strong wind expected in the early hours of tomorrow morning. I dash out into the dusk and harvest sweet pea seed; the conditions must be perfectly dry for seed harvesting and I think many of the pods will have popped by the time this autumnal weather has passed. I feel that this email will reach you too late to warn you, but if you are spared the showers, now would be an opportune moment for seed collecting.