Gardening Bookshelf

Abstract

MY CHILDHOOD WAS SPENT in an upstairs flat in a London suburb and apart from enjoyable days during the First World War watching my father cultivate his allotment I grew up with little experience of the skills of gardening. It has all had to be learnt by poring over books, picking up hints from gardeners, observing other people's gardens and by experimenting and learning by trial and error. Over the years my gardening bookshelf has become filled with much thumbed volumes that have grown into well‐loved friends. The older I grow the more I realize that gardening can only be learnt by experience, by knowing your soil, the corners of your garden where the sun shines all day or where the damp collects, where there are patches of clay or where the convolvulus and mare's‐tail will appear year after year however rigorously the weeding is done. But every year with the changing seasons I take down the old books and refresh my memory over small details of times of planting, depths, spacing, or proportions for potting composts. In recent years as chemical aids and labour saving devices flood the market I know that I shall not be able to find out about hormone rooting powders, peat pots or insecticides from my books but I can borrow those I need from the local library. I have come to prize my gardening bookshelf more for the memories it brings me of hours spent in our family garden than for the practical content.