Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, Today is wet. We walked a wet walk through Craig-y-Nos country park this morning with a wet whippet. The studio converts to a drying room on such occasions. It is a room of small dimensions and is used as a storage area and a coat and boot drying room as well as a place for me to be creatively untidy. It is the second lightest room in the house - even on dull days. I have filled it with fading memories, they literally fade in the sunlight - they disappear as I disappear. Wet room Chicken Me as a chicken Liberty? Baby me and in the Mayor's office Concord NH Not sure who she was but she is beautiful Climbed this with many many others Cat on a welsh blanket - our Pip Old work Young me Big hats Too wet for doing any work in the garden - I decided instead to start the process of making a new framed fresco which will be garden related. I am slightly nervous about this but nothing is gained by procrastination - so here

Dear Monty, The garden wakes slowly. It looks good - has looked good throughout the winter. The balance seems right- the balance of evergreen to copper, brown and soft green. My trip to heaven Head on a pillow Of soft green. With Tudor England being in the minds of those who watch the BBC - with gardens of yews and barber poles - this coal tip garden could be Tudor - could be because my mind links now with childhood visits to Stratford on Avon - 'Comedy of Errors' and 'HenryV' - the wooden house of Shakespeare's birth and the forever beautiful Judi Dench. Was the planting of poles in my garden a subconscious hark back to Tudor times ? No- it was just a device to draw the eye - now as it was then. There is nothing new under the sun. Life expectancy in Tudor times was an average of 35 years. At 54 I would be an old man. The dusty oak interior the smell of wood and wood smoke still calls up a hidden memory of  lives lived richer but ha

In the 'Godless' valley Steep sided Cut God-full men walked Succumbing to the water Tempted to its burning edge White hot Steaming Cauldron Where witches and demons tread.