The Garden Has Different Moods | Marcus Bergin's Garden Notebook
REFLECTIONS
Marcus Bergin
7/9/20262 min read
The Garden Has Different Moods
I've come to realise that a garden isn't the same place all day long. It changes with the light, the weather and even the hour on the clock.
One of the unexpected pleasures of spending every day outdoors is that you begin to notice things that most people never see.
Yesterday reminded me of that.
I started work in the cool of the morning, when the air still felt fresh, and the garden seemed almost reluctant to wake up. The light was soft, birds were busy in the hedges, and there was a sense of calm that only really exists before the day gathers pace. It's a time of day I've always enjoyed. Not because it's more productive, although it often is, but because gardens seem to reveal themselves a little differently first thing in the morning.
By the afternoon, everything had changed.
The temperature had climbed, the shadows had shortened, and the garden felt quieter. The birds had retreated into the shelter of trees and shrubs, the bees seemed to be working with far more purpose and even I found myself slowing the pace a little. It wasn't just the weather that had changed. The whole character of the garden had shifted.
I think that's something we sometimes overlook.
We often talk about gardens changing with the seasons, but they also change throughout a single day. A border that glows in the gentle light of the morning can feel completely different beneath the bright sun of the afternoon. A shaded corner that seems cool and inviting at lunchtime becomes almost magical as the evening light begins to filter through the branches.
It's one of the reasons I never tire of returning to the same gardens.
People sometimes ask whether looking after the same gardens year after year ever becomes repetitive. The honest answer is no, because they're never quite the same twice. The seasons keep moving, the weather keeps changing, and the light is constantly painting familiar places in different ways. A garden isn't a photograph frozen in time. It's alive, and that means it's always changing.
Perhaps that's why I enjoy early starts so much.
There's a quiet optimism about the beginning of the day. The jobs are still waiting, the coffee is still warm, and anything feels possible. By late afternoon, there's a different kind of satisfaction. You look back across the garden, see what you've achieved and notice the light beginning to soften once again. The pace slows, both for the gardener and, somehow, for the garden itself.
I think that's one of the reasons gardening has kept me interested for so many years.
No matter how familiar a garden becomes, it always has another side to show you.
Sometimes you just have to visit it at a different hour.
Marcus
