'During the lockdowns, those fortunate enough to have gardens have been able to focus on these visual delights.' Photo: by Nikola Jovanovic on Unsplash
Our better nature? Nick Tyldesley digs in
‘Being in harmony with nature expresses notions of balance, respect and natural beauty.’
This verse from ‘God’s Garden’ by Dorothy Frances Gurney neatly expresses the connection between spirituality and horticulture: ‘The kiss of the sun for pardon / The song of the birds for mirth / One is nearer God’s heart in a garden / than anywhere else on earth’.
Gardens have long been associated with a sense of spirituality. Gardens for the Egyptians and Persians were designed to represent heaven on earth, based on a formal layout and the use of water. They were places for mediation and relaxation. Religious rites in Ancient Greece took place in hillside olive groves. Medieval monastic gardens were places for contemplative exercise combined with the more utilitarian function of providing food and herbal cures. If we jump many centuries, the National Arboretum in Staffordshire is a series of memorials to casualties of war set in woodland surroundings, again to encourage a sense of reflection.
If we want to explore this theme we might make the obvious point that the whole process of planting, nurturing and harvesting is parallel to our human life span. Being in harmony with nature expresses notions of balance, respect and natural beauty. They are part of the design for the universe. Growing food provides sustenance for others as a community obligation.
So how do we react to the challenge of gardening? Do we go for ordered formality or create a wild environment? Do we respect weeds? Do we cope with the ravages of slugs with a philosophical acceptance that all creatures are to be respected? Do we find digging and mowing as a chance for free exercise that helps us to combat other stresses? What do we look for in a favourite bloom: fragrance, colour, ease of growing, usefulness? Have we planted trees to help counteract climate change? Do we feel perhaps too competitive when growing prize-winning roses or marrows? Are we organic? Our responses reveal our attitudes to our environment and each other.
During the lockdowns, those fortunate enough to have gardens have been able to focus on these visual delights, perhaps as a centring-down preparation for our prayers. A walk in the local park can provide the same opportunities. We can feel pleased about successfully bringing seeds to fruition; being outdoors is good for our health and state of mind. Perfection is not the main object and we shouldn’t feel guilty that we are not as successful as Carol Klein or Monty Don. We can always have our own mini flower or vegetable show in our own backgardens.
One would like to think that even the Old Testament Jews in exile in Assyria got some momentary delight in the sight of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and a whiff of their fragrance to sustain them in their woes. In a world that can seem all too gloomy, there is a place for enjoying simple horticultural pleasures.
