My love of wildlife and gardening began many years ago. As a child I had my own small patch of earth where I grew cornflowers, marigolds and nasturtiums. It was regularly visited by black birds and robins which fed on the ants and earthworms that lived there. One day, my father came home from work with a small school desk. It was made of oak and had a little ink well. I cherished this little table and found acorns, shells, flowers and insects to display on it. On walks with my father, I found even more treasures for my lovely nature table.
As time passed, my little patch of garden expanded so that I could grow flowers which attracted bees and butterflies. I became fascinated with nature and would press flowers between small pieces of blotting paper. In the winter, I kept notes of all the birds that visited the garden. Encouraged by my dad, my love of the natural world grew. It was after I studied botanical art and textiles at college, that wildlife gardening became a passion.
Thirty years ago, my father passed away. His leaving touched me incredibly and left a huge gap. It was hard to come to terms with this loss, but I found working in the garden and noticing its wildlife helped me heal. To this day I still garden with my dad’s garden fork, spade and trowel.
Today my small patch of earth is in Dorset. My secluded garden lies on a farm, bordered by a high, dry-stone wall, long barn, tin fence and the farmhouse. Neglected and overgrown when I moved in, my garden is now full of plants and shrubs which are loved by insects, birds and other creatures. All are welcome here.
Many years ago, I had a nature table. Today, in a quiet corner, I have one with fossils and shells, but really my whole garden is a nature table. It gives me pleasure and reveals surprises whenever I venture outside.