Enjoying Life Amidst the Hustle: Don't Get Overwhelmed by Your 'To-Do' List; Take a Moment to Delight in the Present, Suggests Alan Titchmarsh
Gardening in the Spirit of Resurrection
Quickly, the festive vibes last week got me contemplating how Easter is more than just a religious occasion — it's a vibrant moment for the garden, regardless of faith. In the heart of the soil, new sprouts triumphantly discard their winter hibernation and spring to life, making the garden a beacon of revival. That renewed vitality, much like the famous Mole in Wind in the Willows, stirs a profound longing in gardeners: "Scrap the spring cleaning!"
Easter serves as a landmark on the calendar — a shout-out to roll up our sleeves and sow, plant for the summer delight, whether it's in flower beds or vegetable patches.
The suggestions bombarding conscious cultivators are countless: sowing vegetable seeds, hardy annuals, planting seed potatoes, onion sets, potting up summer-blooming bulbs, and taking cuttings to propagate fresh plants. A mountainous to-do list? Undoubtedly. But take a moment — bask in the moment.
Dive into nostalgia — remember the miniature garden on a church wooden board from your childhood, with a tomb made from river pebbles, lush moss, and quaint celandine and wood anemone pots? That charming patch symbolized the garden's revival.
The aromatic shoots of mint by the old stone midden at the end of my garden would emerge, flavoring our Sunday roast with tantalizing freshness. It needed no coddling, no pampering, yet it always came through during Easter.
Grandad's allotment by the river housed colossal seed potatoes in trenches of lush soil. A copper vat filled with soot in one corner was a secret weapon against caterpillars, keeping his Savoy cabbages and blackberries (over the old brass bedsteads in the cabbage patch) safe.
Grandad's rhubarb was the envy of fellow allotmenteers, thanks to the piles of manure left by horses, which were more common in those days.
On Good Friday, mum would sow parsley alongside my polythene greenhouse. She swore by an old saying that claimed parsley seeds would sprout only on this sacred day. She preferred to keep quiet about the two theories attached to this practice: one suggesting that this is the only day seeds don't go to the Devil nine times before they emerge, the other proposing that parsley flourishes best in homes where the woman has the authority. If dad ever mentioned that second one today, he'd probably be outspokenly criticized.
The nostalgia from those childhood memories in the Yorkshire Dales is a cherished part of my life. I hope, in years to come, my grandkids will appreciate the sound of the birds, the sky's azure hue, the scent of freshly crushed rosemary, the dew-kissed grass and gravel beneath their feet, and the taste of those delicious Easter chocolates.
The alluring history of Chatsworth House and the remarkable people who shaped it, by Alan Titchmarsh (Ebury, £35). Now available!
Alan TitchmarshAlan Titchmarsh is a gardening enthusiast, accomplished author, and talented broadcaster.
Easter marks a distinctive moment on the calendar, instigating a call to action for gardeners to sow seeds and cultivate gardens, be it in flower beds, vegetable patches, or home-and-garden miniatures—an embodiment of the garden's rebirth. Reminiscing about the past, one may recall the enchanting homemade miniature gardens from childhood, a symbol of life's renewal, akin to the spirit of home-and-garden endeavors.
