THE CHARM OF GARDENS 



long, long vistas of fields, with spires and towers sticking 

 up against the sky. Plenty of rare flowers there for 

 your gardener, marsh flowers, water plants galore. 

 That's the place to see the sky, to watch a summer 

 storm across the plain, to see the Poplars bending in an 

 angry wind, and the white windmills glare against 

 purple rain clouds. Few hedges here but plenty of 

 banks and dykes, and canals they call drains. Here you 

 may find Marsh Valerian, Water Crowsfoot, Frogbit, 

 pink Cuckoo-flowers, Bog Bean, Sundews, Sea Lavender, 

 and Bladder- worts. The Sundews alone will give you an 

 hour's pleasure with their glistening red glands tricked 

 out to catch unwary flies and midges. 



Then there's a wild garden waiting you by stone 

 walls in the dales of Derbyshire, or in the Yorkshire 

 wolds, or the Lancashire fells. On the open heaths, 

 where the grey roads wind through warm carpets of 

 ling and heather, you can fill your nostrils with the 

 sweet scent of Gorse and Thyme. 



I was sitting one hot afternoon, drawing the twisted 

 bole of a Beech tree. All the wood in which I sat was 

 stirring with life ; the dingle below me a mist of flowers, 

 Primroses, Wind-flowers, Hyacinths whose bells made 

 the air softly fragrant. Above me the sky showed 

 through a trellis-work of young leaves, the distance of 

 the wood was purple with opening buds, and the floor 

 was a swaying sea of Bluebells dancing in a gentle 

 breeze. Squirrels chattered in the trees ; now and then 

 a wood pigeon flopped out of a tree, and a blackbird 

 whistled in some hidden place. 



All absorbed in my work, following the grotesquely 

 beautiful curves of the beech roots, I heard no sound 

 of approaching footsteps. A voice behind me said 

 "Good," and I started, dropping my pencil in my 

 confusion. 



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