This is the year I have vowed to garden well, and to work towards making the spaces I love to imagine come true, or as true as I am able, given my hit and miss style. The diary will record the changing seasons and my efforts to fill the garden with seed-grown plants, to create a more intense atmosphere.
It might also show how domestic life infiltrates my writing. For instance, I am coming to the end of a year in which I have visited and written about West Terrace Cemetery, fallen in love with its beautiful 19th century statuary. It was the year I developed the plan of finding an angel for the garden, an eventual guardian, perhaps, for my ashes. Yesterday I bought the angel and put it place between the quince tree and The Children’s Rose.
And now I’m working on the final revisions, so that when I glance up and out of my window I see the small wings, the folds of the robe, art and life coming together in my garden.