Tag: Gardens

The Garden in Summer

Having been battered with bad news this week, I was at a loss as to what to write. My head is whirling like a rotary drier and all thoughts seem to have spun away like poorly secured socks. My husband suggested that I write about the garden and, since it is my solace always, I thought it would be a good place to start. If nothing else, I could post some pastoral pictures.

A summer’s day
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

At last the temperature seems to match the month and it is a balmy 24 degrees here. The air is unusually still and the garden seems to have settled into a summer doze.

The vibrant greens of spring have been replaced with the muted tones of khaki. With many of the flowering plants past their glory, they have left behind an infinite array of leaf shapes and seed heads.

First fruits

All the rain this year has had some benefits. My soft fruits have been unusually plentiful. Each morning, I would trundle down the garden and pick blackcurrants, red currants, raspberries, plums and mulberries. Some of them even made it back to the kitchen.

Delicious as soft fruits are, there is a limit to how many one can consume at a time, so after giving away quite a few, the rest were placed in bags and into the freezer.

Preserving summer

With my final plums ripening faster than I could eat them, I took the last batch to make some jam. And jam making need not be an all-day affair. Making a smaller amount in a heavy bottomed pan takes hardly any time at all. The result was just two jars – one for me, one for my mum. Perfect.

And is there still jam for tea? Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

My gnarly old cooking apple tree seems to be preparing for a bumper crop this year. Yet, high winds and inclement weather meant that quite a few of its fruits ended up on the ground. Unwilling to lose even these, I set about making apple cider vinegar. It is used in so many plant-based recipes that it seemed crazy not to make my own. It’s also excellent for descaling the kettle.

Windfall apple cider couldn’t be easier to make. Sterilize a large jar, add chopped apples (or apple peel). Add about 1/2 cup of sugar and fill the jar with boiled or purified water. Stir. Cover with a cloth tied with an elastic band. Stir each morning and it should be ready in one month when it has a strong vinegary smell. (If you want to be precise, invest in PH strips!)

Autumn promise

Having enjoyed so much plenty from the garden, it seems a little greedy to ask for more – but more is what is promised. My pear trees are all laden, as are the more mature apple trees (the babies haven’t got there yet!) My additional plum trees should be ready to harvest soon and the quinces at the very tail end of autumn.

A good year for apples
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

However, lest you think that all my gardening attempts have been successful, be assured that my foes have done their upmost to thwart me.

Garden foes

This year, the slugs and snails have surpassed themselves. They look so cute (well, snails at least) and wreck total havoc. Perhaps they have taken an evolutionary leap, because I keep finding them up my trees. When did they learn to climb?

And as for bindweed, it is my nemesis. No walk in the garden is complete without gathering armfuls of the stuff and unravelling its stranglehold on my plants. Its gorgeous flower trumpets its triumph. Honestly, that is just rude.

In addition to our fruit trees, we attempted to grow maize, squashes, butternut squash, peas and beans. The beans and peas and half the squashes are currently working their way through the snails’ digestive tracts and I am only hoping that the few remaining survivors are safe, because they are satiated.

My husband suggested that some mad scientist ought to make a genetically modified snail to eat bindweed. A fortune awaits!

Summer residents

Though weeds and slugs are unwanted guests, the vast majority of creatures who make my garden home are warmly accepted. Butterflies, birds, ants, pollinators, and tiny gnats are all part of an ecology that makes everything thrive and transforms the garden from a green space to a living organism.

Captured on camera just before taking flight
Image: Karen Costello-Feat

Out with the old and in with the new

Nature is not remotely sentimental about keeping things beyond the date of their usefulness. Once a flower has bloomed, hopefully been pollinated and spread its seed, it is time for the next contender for her precious resources.

The garden is now filled with seed heads and fluffy cones of valerian. In their place are dazzling displays of Michaelmas daisies, reborn roses and sun loving geraniums. But their time too is marked, as the Earth tilts towards autumn.

Across the road, in a neighbour’s tree, the first flame coloured leaves have appeared. It will be a month or two before the tree is fully ablaze, but notice has been given.

For some, the fleeting nature of things is a source of sorrow. The children, soon to depart school for the holidays, no doubt wish that summer would never end. But for me, it is the constant changing cycle that I find comforting and enthralling. The garden is a symbol of both fragility and endurance. Nothing is ever truly lost – only reimagined for a time.

The Canny Gardener – Growing Food

Harvest Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Perhaps I watched too many apocalyptic disaster movies in the 7os, but I have always had a little part of my brain telling me that I should be prepared for anything. That means, above all, being able to feed myself should civilisation, as we know it, fall into chaos.

Don’t worry, I am not a bonkers survivalist, but I do think that we owe it to ourselves to learn a little resilience and self-reliance. Rising food prices and shortages, climate change and global instability means that if we can contribute even a little to our own food stocks, we should. If nothing else, growing our own food makes us appreciate it (and therefore not waste it) and value those that labour every day to provide for us.

As anyone who has attempted growing their own food will tell you, it is hard and fraught with difficulties: garden pests, frosts, storms, heat and drought all work against us. It is always rather miraculous to me that we can produce anything at all. But we do and the challenge makes the reward so much sweeter.

An urban vegetable garden (Sadly, mine looks nothing like this.)
Image: Markus Spiske on Unsplash

The joy of playing in the dirt

Unfortunately, my MS means that I cannot garden nearly as vigorously or effectively as I should like. However, it doesn’t stop me from gardening at all. In fact, the time I spend outside makes me feel immensely better – even if it takes a toll on my energy levels. As a child, I loved playing in the dirt; as an adult, I’m no different. And no doubt this is why:

There’s a reason that the rose or veggie garden is often a person’s “happy place.” There is a natural antidepressant called Mycobacterium vaccae found in soil. The bacterium stimulates serotonin production, the stuff that makes you feel happy.

https://www.promixgardening.com/en/tips/gardening-health-benefits

Not only does the soil stimulate our happy hormones, but it can give us a Vitamin B hit (if we don’t clean our hands too perfectly.) Its other health benefits include physical well being through exercise and mental well being from immersion in nature.

And if you are growing fruit and vegetables, you get to enjoy organic, zero miles food for very little cost.

Since I can’t ‘dig for victory’, I have become rather focused on getting the most from my garden with the least physical effort. One way that we manage that is by planting lots of fruit trees and fruit canes.

The lazy gardener

My wonderful and very old apple tree gives us enough cooking apples for about a year. I’ve frozen pounds of them and stored the rest in the cool. No, they don’t have the bright waxy sheen of the supermarket ones, but they are super tasty.

In the last few years, we have planted a sort of orchard in the garden with mulberries, apples, pears, plums, quince and cherries in side beds and the vegetable patch. They require little more than watering when it is very hot and the occasional prune. If you want to be a lazy gardener like me – plant a tree!

The next easiest thing to do is soft fruits. We have numerous raspberry canes, which I have divided to make more. Our currants and gooseberries are sometimes raided by the birds. But that’s okay. They need feeding too.

A gardener’s reward Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Herbs are perhaps the easiest of all and take up little room. A salad supplemented with various herbs becomes a thing of beauty. You can always grow some inside with sprouts to give you a macro salad for a micro price.

My favourite tip was given by a friend who discovered that Bigga Dried Peas (which cost 90p at Sainsbury’s) are ideal for pea shoots. I simply pop then in the soil, water and enjoy when they are about three inches high.

Seeds

By far the most economical way to garden is to buy seeds and perhaps bring them on a little in a greenhouse or window sill. Some plants, like rocket, don’t even need that, they will merrily self-seed all round your garden (mine even made it to the front garden) and feed you with no effort in perpetuity. Mint too is a terror for invading garden space, but I love mint and am happy for it to grow anywhere.

When you grow your own, there are invariably little surprises the following spring. This year, I’ve found some spring onions, chard and parsley that I can make no claims on nurturing.

Once you have planted your seeds and brought them to maturity, you can collect those seeds and use them again. Dry them carefully and keep in a dark, cool place. Last year, it was so hot that my Indian corn simply wilted. It did manage a few cobs though and I rescued those in hopes of better results this year.

A little small to eat, but good to plant Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Free food

I have my seeds from last year and my wish list for this, and I have a couple of experiments I’d like to conduct. One is to practise companion planting using the three sisters of Native American agriculture: corn, beans and squash and the other is gardening with kitchen scraps and more unusual crops.

You can regrow almost anything and the link here gives you instructions on how: https://www.ruralsprout.com/regrow-vegetables/ This year, I’ve also tried to grow some more exotic seeds: chickpeas, lemons, olives and dates. It might be a complete failure, of course, but it has cost me only a few minutes’ effort. Even if they simply turn into pretty plants, I shall be very happy with that.

Fingers crossed Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The key component to any gardening is patience and growing from seed requires a great deal of it, even from the most accommodating of plants. But watching a beautiful plant emerge from something as tiny as a seed awakens in us proper awe for the mysteries of nature.

Gardening for all

Few things give me as much pleasure as my garden and the produce it yields. And although we are not all able to do the heavy work of gardening, we still can enjoy doing what we can. My sessions actually digging/planting/weeding are very short but give me a great deal of satisfaction and necessary exercise. Planning and preparing the garden are equally enjoyable and growing little things inside, likewise.

Though I doubt we will need to be self-sufficient any time in the near future, we can always venture towards self-sufficiency to improve our health; make a positive impact on the environment and provide ourselves with delicious, fresh food.

And if we’re canny, we can do it for almost no cost at all.

NB

My lovely friend Elizabeth is coming to visit from America on Friday, so I shan’t be writing a post next week. We shall be too busy chatting and drinking tea. But I shall be back after that. I hope you’ll join me then.

Seeds

Wondering what to write about this week, I asked my husband for suggestions. ‘Seeds,’ he said and then went on the extol their miraculous qualities and how they act as a rather apt metaphor for life. Seeds? I thought. How on earth am I going to find 1,000 words to write about seeds?

My husband, a newly converted gardener, is currently fascinated by seeds. After planting vast numbers of tulip bulbs, he discovered that they can be propagated by seed. (Who knew?) He then went on to find that if you harvest these seeds, plant them and wait about three years (gardening is not for the impatient) you will get tiny bulbs. Having found that all bulbs can be grown from seed, he then deseeded my giant lilies. And here they are:

Lily seeds awaiting planting
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

If anyone would like some, let me know!

All flowering plants begin as seeds, though some will multiply from there by other methods. For example, strawberries and spider plants reproduce from runners or ‘daughter plants’, which are attached to the parent. I was delighted to discover another wild strawberry plant when weeding in the garden, and my plan is to let them take over the entire area. But overcrowding for plants and people is seldom wise, so strawberries also have berries with the seeds on the outside to give them the opportunity to disperse their seed further afield.

Here’s a little video about the life cycle of plants. It is rather cartoonish, but I confess I could have used such a clear presentation when doing O level biology. (Please skip if you know all this already!)

https://youtu.be/AcSgaUBwIn4

Free gifts

My perambulation around the garden yesterday brought lots of surprises. Seeds had clearly been having a good time exploring new parts. The rocket is incredibly successful at long distance travel and has made it from my veg patch at the far end of the back garden to the front lawn. I was delighted to find new clumps of parsley yards from where they were sown; flowers that hopped up into my raised garden planters and some that had found a location they preferred away from their original beds. Such unexpected gifts are always a joy and if you are not too fussy about keeping your garden in regimented order, it will soon decide where plants are most comfortable and will thrive. We practise a very relaxed version of forest gardening and it certainly works for us.

Autumn’s glory

To compensate for the paucity of flowering plants in this season, autumn generously offers us an alternative. Seed heads are a beautiful addition to any scene and particularly enchanting in autumn’s slanting light. Their delicate silhouettes act as an elegy to summer. For now, they are bare: mere mementoes of warmer days. But in holding the seeds for future seasons, they promise a return to colour and abundance.

Seed heads at Birling Gap Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Seed heads also make the loveliest displays. I have several in vases throughout the house and some giant allium heads woven through with tiny lights so they look like illuminated chrysanthemums. When fresh cut flowers are not in season, these make the most environmentally friendly alternative.

Feed the birds

Seed heads are a great food source for birds during the lean autumn and winter months. That said, we often tidy the garden and get rid of many of those nutritious food sources, since those ‘dead’ twiggy, stems are less beautiful (at least to some). Reading an edition of Country Living recently, I discovered that some plants we routinely cut back are great bird feeders and will thrive just as well with a spring as an autumn trim. Though this information was too late for some of my lavender, the rest is still flower heavy and I’m trying to be careful only to take out those plants whose seeds have already been eaten or dispersed.

Lavender – a feast for the birds as well as the eyes
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Harvesting seeds

Harvesting seeds could hardly be simpler. One only has to pick the plants (dry if necessary) and shake them out onto paper and transfer to a paper bag. That’s it. I like to make pretty seed envelopes for seeds to share, but just because I like an excuse to play.

This year I am drying my Indian corn kernels. My corn this year didn’t fare well. First they were assaulted by snails, then happily grew during the long, warm spell, only to be assaulted once again, this time by torrential rain and a plague of woodlice. Never mind. Such things are inevitable in gardening. Luckily, they were able to produce just enough to give me seeds for next year. I must let them dry completely then gently pick off the kernels. I’m hoping that the weather and wildlife will be kinder then.

Enough for next year’s crop
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Enough to share

Though seeds are not expensive, they are not especially cheap either – especially for more rarefied varieties as the corn above. When you gather your own seeds, there is always more than enough to go around. Last year, I gave out sunflower and corn seeds and hope they fared better than mine! Many towns will have seed swaps during the autumn, but less formal exchanges between friends is also great. Whatever knowledge you have acquired about location, soil and conditions can be passed on with the packet of seeds.

Planting seeds is an act of hope and, as any gardener will tell you, results in great joy when successful. My husband made a lovely comparison between planting seeds and life. He said, you plant so many, but only a few will make it to completion. Like all endeavours, we work hard and don’t always achieve the outcomes that we hope for. That said, when they do materialise, our labours bloom delightfully and all the effort seems worthwhile.

The Garden Meditation

This week, I have been experimenting with meditations. I always do my loving kindness one (setting that intention feels vital for me), but it can be done discreetly while waiting for an appointment or when a free quarter of an hour presents itself.

Finding time for my formal meditation with breathing exercises has become more challenging, however. As my creative life expands, my days contract. I do not want to change that, but I do want to continue meditating. Are there other ways of doing it?

Active meditation

One option is a more active meditation. If this sounds curious to you, or even wrong, be assured that the practise is as ancient as meditation itself. Walking meditations were often performed tracing a labyrinth. There is a beautiful one inside Chartres and within the grounds of the Quaker retreat at Woodbrooke. But you do not need a labyrinth to guide you or even an especially scenic route.

A walk in the wild
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Meditation is often wrongly assumed to be something one does in a silent space on a cushion with incense. Of course, you may wish to practise this way, but it is by no means necessary. My understanding of meditation is absolute attention to what is. And as we focus on something outside our thoughts: our breath, our footsteps, the details of the surrounding world, we are freed from our inner chattering brain and enter into something more eternal.

I was reading recently of someone who lived in a highly urban area and whose meditation practise was looking, really looking, at his surroundings: a cat at a window, wild flowers pushing through the pavement, the changing colours of the leaves. Such quiet focussing can be done on the way to work and would anchor us fully for the day ahead.

Garden meditation

But as you have probably guessed from the title, my favourite form of meditation is in the garden. The act of gardening, requiring physical and mental effort is an ideal way to meditate and feel virtuous at the same time.

My physical limitations mean that gardening sessions need to be quite short, but I can sit in my shed and admire the view.

A shed with a view
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

So, on Wednesday, that is exactly what I did. Instead of my usual morning pages, I focussed on the world around me and noted what I experienced. The hour passed in what seemed like minutes and I had many more observations than there is room for here. But here is a taster:

The sky is Hockney swimming pool blue. The clouds so faint, it looks as if they have been lightly erased from the sky with a rubber. Startling in its contrast is the Austrian pine in a complementary green. It is the only plant in the garden to have kept its primo verde shade. The rest, dulled by late summer and a long stretch of baking heat, have turned all military hues: khaki, olive, brown.

At eight o’clock, the traffic behind the house is working itself up to a crescendo of sound, while in the garden the magpies, arguing and clacking with a machine-gun fire repetition add nature’s percussion.

This early, there is almost no scent – only the fresh, clean smell of a pristine day. Later, the gentle breeze will bring the perfume of leaves as they respire in the sunshine.

Gradually, children trickle to the school nearby and add their mix of laughter, shrieks and shouts. I love their lack of inhibition. They voice, fully and roundly, their emotions.

We are predators, so the movement of all the garden’s visitors, above and below immediately catch my eye: the elegant silvered swerve of the seagull; the Dickens’ poor-ragged wing of the crow; the comical ecclesiastical walk of the collared dove as he searches beneath the apple tree for a tasty breakfast.

Emerging apples Image: Karen Costello=McFeat

I am very comfortable in my shed, seated upon my Lloyd loom chair, coffee mug at my side. But I am not alone for long. Hermione and my husband return from her walk and she explodes into the room with her usual enthusiasm.

Meditations are seldom possible in complete quiet in my house. But that needn’t be a problem. Life is fluid. The more able we are to embrace that, the easier finding peace amidst activity becomes.

I wanna hold your hand
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Hermione is a very affectionate creature, who like a small child needs constant attention. One way to satisfy this is to hold her hand – yes, really. An interruption? Of sorts, but I can consider the silky softness of her fur, her gentle breathing and feel gratitude for her company. In a moment, she will be off with her ball.

My garden offered an endless display to enchant all my senses. If you find the idea of meditation off-putting or difficult, I would recommend spending a little time in yours or a place of natural beauty. The aim, after all, is to make our lives a living meditation connecting with the world around us and listening to ‘that still small voice of calm’ within.

Out of the Darkness

Over the last few weeks, I have spoken to numerous friends who are all saying the same thing. How do we find joy when the world is so full of chaos and life so uncertain? How do we find joy in these cold, dark days? For many, the answer would be to curl up on the sofa with a glass of wine and binge watch television or lose yourself on social media. But, luckily for me, my friends are much more creative. Drawing on their suggestions and a few of my own, I hope we can find some strategies not to endure these grey days but to thrive in them.

Partioning the day

My good friend Jenny came up with this phrase and I love it. By making our day into a sort of ornate Lego creation compiled of numerous brightly coloured blocks, we are setting ourselves up for success.

What do you plan to do today? Image: Ashley Edwards on Unsplash

When we are feeling down, it becomes increasingly difficult to motivate ourselves to do anything. So, the best thing to do is to pre-empt this by filling in our diary.

Your own schedule

Wise ones throughout time have emphasised the need for order and structure in our lives. This is not a binding but a liberation. Without borders we flail helplessly. This may not be a particularly popular view at the moment, when ‘I don’t want any restrictions’ seems to be the predominant attitude, but like an undisciplined child, such an approach usually ends up with tantrums and tears.

My daily schedule goes something like this:

6.45 – 7.30 Time to wake up! Yoga stretches, mini meditation, (cold) shower. Time to get ready

7.30 – 9.30 Breakfast, clean and tidy, puppy play. Qi Gong in garden.

9.30-12 Work time! Writing, emails, letters and calls

12 -1 Lunch for all! Mini play in garden for Hermione

1-2 Post lunch nap and walk with Hermione

2-5 Work time! Meetings, calls and volunteering assignments. Ideally with a short break for afternoon tea and a garden trip with the dog.

5-6.30 Making dinner and washing up etc.

6.30-8 Swedish practice, news update and finishing anything left undone.

8-10 Relax – television, reading and hanging out

10 Time for bed! Yoga stretches, breathing exercises and organising for the next day.

This is all highly flexible and subject to change, but the essential structure is the same throughout the week. My day is always bookended with gentle exercise and quiet times. Due to having a very hungry husband and a peculiar diet, I need to do more cooking from scratch than most. This is amply recompensed by the pleasure of a shared meal – and even more so when my husband does the cooking!

Fresh air and exercise

The twin source of health and happiness. This is something that definitely wants to go into your daily schedule. And this is not a penance. Almost everyone I spoke to put some form of exercise as the thing that brings them joy. The activities ranged from running to riding, swimming to sailing, walking to yoga. Many of the folks I spoke to are in my MS circle and are considerably less physically able than they were. What was so inspiring, however, was that they were finding ways to accommodate their limitations and to continue to enjoy the things they love. What matters, it seems, is that you give it a go for how ever long as you are able.

Exercising outside seems to have additional benefits. This summer, I began doing my yoga in the garden and it felt, well, different – and better. Was it the cool breeze, the magnificent skies, the background song of birds? Perhaps it is all these and more. Piedmont Healthcare came up with seven good reasons to exercise outside (https://www.piedmont.org/living-better/7-health-benefits-of-outdoor-exercise) and these included the natural anti-depressant qualities of sunshine and the extra challenges variable conditions offer. For those of us with MS, it also adds a valuable vitamin D boost.

With the high risk of infection in confined spaces like gyms and swimming pools, now might be the time to venture outside. And if exercise is not possible, the benefits of simply enjoying the outdoors are amply documented. When physically restricted, the expansiveness of the outdoors becomes even more essential.

Even if it is snowing, the dog still needs her walk Image: Bonnie Kittle on Unsplash

Enjoy the garden

Even though this is no longer the weather for sitting in deckchairs, it is still a wonderful time to appreciate the garden. Every day, Hermione and I take a stroll around the perimeter; checking to see if the plague of caterpillars have finally stopped eating my broccoli and kale (they haven’t), if any of my giant sunflowers have survived (they have) and to observe the subtle daily changes. There are always surprising flashes of colour from hardier plants and turning leaves. The birds are ever entertaining and the skies a daily masterpiece.

Now is an opportunity to step back and enjoy all that the garden has brought you and plan for next year’s incarnation. It is the time to plant bulbs in anticipation of the spring to come; the time to plan next year’s crops and order seed and plants. For once, the weeds have lost their exuberance and we, and the garden, can rest.

Hot lips and Japanese anemones add autumn colour Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Cosy up

Enjoying being inside while the wind rages without can be especially pleasing. We can make the cocoon of our homes a cosy nest protected from the elements and filled with light and joy. It is not difficult nor expensive to indulge in beautiful candles, to make a special hot drink, to bake a few cookies, to find some lovely music or a radio play. These are all pleasures that well outweigh their cost. We just need to remember to do it.

In these relaxed atmospheres, we are more likely to take up a creative task than simply turn on the television. My two friends who started this discussion have, in the intervening week, finished a gorgeous quilt and made a delicate embroidery. These are gifts that will, in turn, lend a sense of well-being to their recipients.

Knitting and other handicrafts are excellent for our mental health – reducing stress and anxiety and bringing the participant into a calm, flow state similar to that achieved in meditation. Having something to show for your time is simply a bonus.

Into the light

These are indeed dark times. Many of us are removed from those we love and concerned for their well-being. Simple activities become complex when we figure in avoiding infection. Fears for the future may threaten to overwhelm us. Yet, if we can take each day as the gift that it is, fill it with meaningful tasks and accept the challenge of making our homes a sanctuary, I believe that we bring our own light.

Green Therapy

‘ The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.”

Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl

This morning, I ate a late breakfast in the garden. The sun was radiant and the sky a Hockney swimming pool blue. It was chilly, yes, but nothing that a warm jumper and a coat couldn’t deal with.

So I settled myself down with my hot coffee, toast and marmalade and gave myself the task of doing … absolutely nothing. This brief respite from the rain and cold was there to be cherished and savoured. This was a moment for green therapy – the most effective, inexpensive and delightful one available. Forget expensive spa days – just take some time to sit outside.

Being one with Nature

Cheery snow drops and cyclamen welcome visitors to my home

Sitting doing nothing can easily morph into a mini meditation session. One can close one’s eyes and simply listen – to the bird song, the rumble of traffic in the background, even the creak and settling of the house as it basks in the spring sunshine.

Or focus on a flower. The Buddha famously picked a lotus flower (mud and roots and all) and held it up for his disciple’s contemplation. Though most of his followers were not quite sure what to make of it, one, Mahakasyapa, understood and smiled, finding enlightenment in this simple plant. As in all Zen riddles, there is not one correct ‘answer’ to the Buddha flower sermon and perhaps we need not look for one. For me, the flower is a symbol of life – it’s beauty and transience. It gives joy, yet expects nothing in return. It is an example of the rightness of the world.

When Jesus tried to remind his disciples of the uselessness of worry, he also used a flower to explain his thoughts. He said, ‘Consider the lilies of the fields, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin,’ Matt 6:28. In other words, Nature, or God, would provide.

And even if we are not comfortable with a religious approach, we can always take the age -old advice of stopping to smell the flowers. No-one should be in such a rush that they cannot take a moment to hold a scented bloom to their nose and let its perfume calm and restore them.

Spring flowers are especially delightful and my house is filled with hyacinths and paper-whites at the moment, so that even if the day is damp and dreary, I can still imagine that I am in the garden.

Feed the Birds

When I was unwell, I often lay in bed watching the birds swoop and turn like acrobats in the sky. Living near the coast, there are always seagulls to entertain me, but my garden is filled with other birds too, who make regular appearances.

We have Reggie Crow, who is semi tame and knocks on next door’s windows for his daily bread; a solitary magpie; whole clutches of sparrows, tits and little brown jobs; pigeons and doves. Sometimes the cacophony they make can feel a little overwhelming, but they provide the best free cinematic entertainment whether I am stuck inside or outside in the garden with them.

Placing a variety of bird feeders or ensuring that you have plenty berry producing trees will ensure a steady supply of feathered visitors. Watching the birds is somehow much more therapeutic than watching something on a screen – and every bit as enjoyable.

We are hoping that our family of blue-tits will return to nest this year

Throughout time, artists, philosophers and poets have written about the healing powers of Nature and it seems we are just catching on.

Being in nature, or even viewing scenes of nature, reduces anger, fear, and stress and increases pleasant feelings. Exposure to nature not only makes you feel better emotionally, it contributes to your physical wellbeing, reducing blood pressure, heart rate, muscle tension, and the production of stress hormones. It may even reduce mortality, according to scientists such as public health researchers Stamatakis and Mitchell.

https://www.takingcharge.csh.umn.edu/how-does-nature-impact-our-wellbeing

In addition, it can help reduce pain by distracting us from it. The sheer complexity of natural forms encourages the brain to focus on them rather than our discomfort.

Surprisingly, it has also been shown to help us build a sense of connectedness, not only with the natural world but with each other. Communities that have access to nature tend to have closer social ties and fewer social dysfunctions like crime.

Attention to nature can improve cognitive function and creativity. And one way to ensure you benefit from both is to keep a nature diary. One year, I decided to do just that.

Every day, I walked the dog in the same beautiful park and I set myself the challenge of noting (and writing about) any changes I saw from day to day. Over the course of the year, I was able to trace the incremental changes from one season to the next. Because I had set myself the task of doing this for 365 days, I also looked for details that I would have over-looked on an ordinary walk. Retiring plants came into view; the varieties of lichen on trees grabbed my attention, discovering the various flowers on trees, brought joy. (All trees have flowers – you just have to look for them.) And this attentiveness has remained with me, so that no walk, no matter how short, is without wonder.

Bring the Outside In

The day I started this was brilliant and fine, yet today, as I finish, the wind is howling and the rain battering the window panes. I made a quick dash around the garden between showers, but this is not a day for meandering.

So what should we do if the weather is appalling or we are unable to venture outside? Bring it in. Numerous studies have shown that the benefits of nature can be achieved from something as simple as a pot plant. Even pictures of nature can have a beneficial effect.

Spring in the kitchen

So I encourage you to pick some flowers or invest in some plants for those days when the weather or your health is preventing you from enjoying the great outdoors. They are sure to lift your spirits.

And if you are looking for the greatest show on earth – it’s on your doorstep.