Tonight, the first hard frost is expected to blanket the landscape. By dawn, the garden and fields beyond will shimmer from Jack Frost’s kiss. The sprinkling of icy tendrils will weave a magic spell across the land, signalling the garden’s transition into its winter slumber. As with every season, nature’s cues guide me forward, gently reminding me to venture outside and wrap up the final garden tasks of the growing season while the ground remains workable.
With my beanie pulled down low over my ears, I head to the garden, a space transformed by the efforts of my husband, Andrew, from an overgrown rockery into a vibrant plant theatre. This has become my playground for creating seasonally inspired container displays. I dream of a spring-to-early-summer showcase, with snowdrops, muscari, daffodils,…
