A Solstice Meditation - Long Shadows and End Points

A spot of Christmas shopping is not complete without a mosey around Bridge End Garden. Somehow it calls to me a little louder at this busy time of unsustainable excess. It could be my need for tradition, continuity and reflection as the year approaches its conclusion. Some understandably seek this in churches at Christmas, but for me it will always be found outdoors.

Robin song and solitude were ample reward for my minor detour. The grey of the season has made my eyes hunger for splashes of colour, as it does every year. They strain through the gloom to seek out berries, colourful stems and the few flowering plants to be found - always beautifully scented. I muse upon the thought that this visual attraction may hark back to some ancient instinct which helped the more observant among us humans to survive winter in good condition. An evolutionarily advantage - so long as we had learned to avoid the toxic.

Topiary receives a promotion in gardens in winter. It suddenly takes centre stage, its form and structure spectacularly defined by low sun and winters’ long shadows.

The end point of the year is a time for reflection, but also anticipation of what is to come. If gardens teach us anything, it is that end points do not exist - a garden is never finished and the process is everything. A useful reminder as we rush to get everything done in time for Christmas (and even more so as we choose New Year resolutions!).

As I wander around I feel a tangible sense of gratitude for all who support our wonderful garden and for those who have done so over the years. Like the ghosts of Christmas past and present, I think of the Gibson’s who first made a garden here, the generosity of the present Fry family owners, the Town Council staff, gardening volunteers, Friends and donors. And I think of all who will hopefully enjoy it long after we are gone - those we are keeping the Garden for - perhaps the ghosts of Christmas future.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Berry Happy New Year!

As my walk continued onto Castle Street I spotted this berry-laden visual feast, hanging on the door of a mediaeval cottage and couldn't resist including it here.