My Own 'Beechgrove Garden'

Palm trees grow in the West Coast of Scotland, their leaves might be spiky, yet they fair bring a dash of tropical joy. Quite unexpected really, but it’s due to the warmth of the Gulf Stream, you know?
I do love an interesting fact, particularly about gardening. I love to share it too. I guess this stems from being the daughter of two teachers. Well, that, and all the nights we watched the ‘Beechgrove Garden’ on television together. I’ve been trained well. I’ve made sure every day of my life has truly been ‘a school day’. With the learning has come joy and laughter. Bright, colourful memories of long sunny days: Mum with her hair pinned up in a tangle of ‘bobby pins’ singing ‘Give me Joy in my Heart’ at the top of her voice. Dad giving us budding gardeners a small plot to sow seeds. Why I remember, all these years later, that my brother chose to grow beetroot, I’ll never know. I must ask him if they ever grew. Over the years I’ve come to understand: if you give it the right conditions, and take good care of it, a plant or tree will thrive. And with the giving, hope, optimism, and joy will flourish too.
So, today, I’ve taken my time. Done my research. Thought about the best site in my garden. A spot near the Kilmarnock willow, I think. Did I mention that for years my Granny lived in Kilmarnock? Funny the connections. Anyway, this patch, I think it will be just the place. In spring, snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils pop up and in summer it’s a riot of wildflowers including, of course, the pretty blue cornflowers. Always a favourite of Mum’s, to match her eyes.
I’ve bought a bag of ericaceous soil. Chosen a day when the wind is only whispering, the clouds tiptoeing. Contained in a small black plant pot, a little lilac tree sits on the damp grass beside me. Like me, this tree has travelled, perhaps not to the warm climes I have been, but it too has history.
Originally it was a present from my Granny to my Mum on her twenty first birthday: the tree was planted, watered, and loved. Then moved. So many times. So much caring and nurturing over a whole lifetime.
It was a story she told me over and over. I’ll admit, I only half listened sometimes. But it taught me a lesson: I knew from a young age; how important family was. I watched and learned. I saw how, when my Mum lost her Mum, the little tree in the corner of her garden gave her comfort. She and I studied the long cones of tiny lilac flowers clustered tightly together. Bees hummed as the sun shone on. The delicate scent invited us to take time to remember, smile and share some laughter.
My little tree is only a foot high, grown from a cutting. A gift from my Mum to me. Not on my twenty first but at just the right time. After so many gardens, in so many countries, I have returned to Scotland. I’ve finally created a garden of my own, right from scratch. I’ve chosen the plants and trees I’ve learned to love. Lavender, lavatera, fuchsia, cherry blossoms, rowan, and crab apple trees. There’s no Gulf Stream to heat my east coast plot but it is spring now and the ground is warm. I think they’d say on ‘Beechgrove’ that it is a perfect time for planting. The seasons always arrive here a month or so later than in the garden I once had down south. Maybe if it’s harder to succeed then the success will be all the sweeter when it comes? I’ve tried to share the gardening knowledge I’ve garnered over the years with my own children. They all know how to plant seeds; they all have a type of fruit they’ve chosen to grow. I’m back to tuning in to ‘Beechgrove’.
Today I’ll plant this little lilac tree which was grown with the love to match its heart shaped leaves. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to take a cutting. For now, there is dark soil, fresh, new compost, the bright sun on my back and the birds are singing. I find myself humming, ‘Give me Joy in my Heart.’