What Have I Done?

It is a fortunate person indeed, who can go through life without hurting other people, or perhaps I have just lived an inordinately careless life; for I have lost count of the numbers of people I have hurt.  I didn’t set out in life to do this.  I wanted to be good.  I wanted to create.  I wanted to love.  I wanted to have at least tried to have made this world a slightly more caring place than it was when I came into it.

Freshly made wild seed bed or a seedling grave?

Likewise, when it came to my garden it was not my intention to do harm.  I wanted to create.  I wanted to grow.  I wanted to create a space that was more vital than when I first entered it.

On both fronts I have failed miserably.  Such is the nature of life in this back garden.

Lest you think this is an exercise in self-pity let me cite the horticultural evidence: According to my journals in 12 years of gardening I have been responsible for the death of plants from over 93 genera.  That is not counting the individual plants nor is it counting the dozens and dozens of sowings of that didn’t get as far as viable seedlings.  There are those who got as far as seedlings only for me to neglect them, There are plants I failed to water, plants I put in the wrong place, plants I failed to protect, plants I should never have had in the first place.

The story of neglect, abuse and greed is relentlessly catalogued for anyone who cares to read it.

Then there is the destruction for which I have kept no records.

Fuchsia magellanica cuttings potted up on dirty trays

How many slugs and snails have I slaughtered?  They have all been slaughtered with organic means but it has been a mass slaughter nonetheless.  And crushed aphids?  Weevils – adults and grubs?  And no doubt if I ever find a Lily Beetle on one of my fritillaries it will be euthanised as well.

How many abortions without consent have I performed by deadheading countless flowers over the years to prevent them setting seed?

How many infections have I passed on with dirty secateurs, grafting knives and rainwater on seed trays because I couldn’t be bothered to go to the tap in between operations?

And when I step on the ground how many ants have I crushed?  How many worms has my spade decapitated?  How many moths has my lawn mower shredded?

And when the midges have started to bite in the evening how thoughtlessly have I crushed them in their hundreds or thousands over the years under my genocidal thumbs?

The scale of my casual callousness makes me stagger.

Narcissus thalia left to be broken by the wind and the rain.

Various leafless Thymus: dead or alive?

A clearly traumatised Rhododendron: wrong plant wrong place and what have I done about it?

Ever thought of doing some weeding at least?  There should be Lily of the Valley in there somewhere.

Build a new cold frame and say this time I'll do better.

Refreshed the compost and for the Bay (Laurus nobilis) but yellowing leaves tell me it still needs fed.

And while building a cold frame ignore the damage to the plastic greenhouse and the seedlings within.

Healthy display of tulips - not.

Can I justify all this suffering I have inflicted?  No.

All I can say is that if I want to be a gardener then inflicting suffering seems inevitable; and if I want to live my life it would appear that hurting people is inevitable too.  However, some (most?) gardeners take greater care than I, just as some (most?) human beings take greater care than I.  If it really bothers me, then I can try to take greater care too.

The hard bit is when it hits me that I thought I was indeed trying to take greater care and yet I have still left a scarred landscape behind me.

I can ask God to forgive me.  I can try to make amends: make amends to Meconopsis betonicifolia; Convolvulus cneorum; Gaultheria procumbens; Achillea x lewissii ‘King Edward’; Draba azoides; et cetera; et cetera; et cetera.  I could try to grow them better in future or I can make sure I don’t try to grow them ever again.  But their loss can never be reversed.

Trying to make amends to all the miniature conifers I have killed by nurturing this potential giant.

Trying to make amends for all the Dahlias I left to freeze in the ground by growing on those I lifted to over-winter.

Trying to make amends to all those Alpines that rotted in the damp by maintaining a gravel bed.

Trying to make amends to those yellow Rattle seeds I wasted by trimming the grass around these seedlings with scissors.

If I look up to the sky to pray to God then I see yet another problem I have caused: Hawthorn and Sycamore growing into people's telephone lines and so potentially affecting the lives of people across the world I shall never know.

Sometimes it is a hard life in this back garden - for those who have to share it with me.  Sometimes it is good, to remember that.

Forget-me-not

Some people may not like this blog entry as it is not as upbeat as usual.  That's a shame but it's also okay. I am slowly learning that I am who I am and there is really no more to me than that.