other fruit trees. According to Chinese folklore they are said to endow a garden with spiritual blessings for joy and health. I became so enthralled by what I had read about the beauty of these trees that I made up my mind to buy and plant some of
them when I acquired a garden of my own. Now my plum trees, although still young, were beginning to assume what promised to be fascinating shapes and their blossoms, true to my expectations, were fragile flowers of sublime beauty.
In addition to plum trees I also planted a small orchard of apple, pear and cherry trees. I had also discovered a greengage tree in a local garden centre which I planted beside the plums. This veritable plethora of fruit trees meant that in early spring there was a display of blossom marvellous to behold. I also made a patio garden near to the back door of the cottage. Here I planted mulberry, blackthorn and some small crab-apple trees. In the centre of this small garden area I planted two dozen roses of various kinds selected for their perfume. This ensured that in both springtime and summer the garden adjacent to the cottage had plenty of colour and on a still evening the air was filled with sweet perfume.
Further into the garden I embarked upon an ambitious tree-planting project. Alder, white hawthorn, maple and old English oak were planted to border a winding gravel path leading up to the back fence where I had erected a summerhouse. The spaces between the trees were given over to lawn and plantations of bulbs of all manner of spring and summer flowerings. Behind the stone-built double garage I dug a vegetable plot, which was bordered by a stone slab patio, complete with a masonry barbecue. Around the entire perimeter of the huge garden and drive I had painstakingly erected a
seven-foot wooden fence. My intention was to create a private garden paradise. I imagined that when Toby Jug was eventually able to roam the garden he would have a whale of a time. He was a lucky cat because all of this was his to share and enjoy.
On evenings in late spring I loved to wander through the garden of fruit trees in blossom simply to gaze at their delicate flowers filled with coloured pollen dust and to feel at peace with life and the universe. Listening to the calming sound of their leaves as they stirred in the breeze was, for me, an insight into the splendour of creation. As the evening became night I liked to linger in the garden, especially when the sky was clear.
Later in the year, when Toby Jug was a mature cat, he loved to share my night-time excursions and surprised me by wanting to play games with me. He would disappear and then suddenly reappear from out of the darkness, charging at me, and then crouch in the grass before he reached me, inviting a chase. When I made a mock dash towards him, he would race away to leap up the garden fence and station himself on the top in his lord-of-the-manor pose. It was interesting to see how his cat nature emerged so strongly at nightfall. I was intrigued that he seemed to want me to play with him as if I was also a cat. But this was still in the future because for the present Toby Jug had a lot to learn about the garden and about the feast of wonderful experiences it had in store for him.
Whenever the weather permitted being outdoors at night, I was astounded at the countless stars I could see above me. The sight of this timeless universe always filled me with such wonder that it put my life and Toby Jugâs into a very brief and insignificant perspective. At Owl Cottage, for the first time since childhood, I actually saw some shooting stars. The sight of them was a thrilling spectacle. I remembered to make a wish whenever I saw one.
Together Toby Jug and I could see all of this from the cottage garden, our window on the cosmos. To be here in this cottage garden and to experience all this was like a dream come true for the city boy who hated the enclosed boredom of school and played truant to wander through the
them when I acquired a garden of my own. Now my plum trees, although still young, were beginning to assume what promised to be fascinating shapes and their blossoms, true to my expectations, were fragile flowers of sublime beauty.
In addition to plum trees I also planted a small orchard of apple, pear and cherry trees. I had also discovered a greengage tree in a local garden centre which I planted beside the plums. This veritable plethora of fruit trees meant that in early spring there was a display of blossom marvellous to behold. I also made a patio garden near to the back door of the cottage. Here I planted mulberry, blackthorn and some small crab-apple trees. In the centre of this small garden area I planted two dozen roses of various kinds selected for their perfume. This ensured that in both springtime and summer the garden adjacent to the cottage had plenty of colour and on a still evening the air was filled with sweet perfume.
Further into the garden I embarked upon an ambitious tree-planting project. Alder, white hawthorn, maple and old English oak were planted to border a winding gravel path leading up to the back fence where I had erected a summerhouse. The spaces between the trees were given over to lawn and plantations of bulbs of all manner of spring and summer flowerings. Behind the stone-built double garage I dug a vegetable plot, which was bordered by a stone slab patio, complete with a masonry barbecue. Around the entire perimeter of the huge garden and drive I had painstakingly erected a
seven-foot wooden fence. My intention was to create a private garden paradise. I imagined that when Toby Jug was eventually able to roam the garden he would have a whale of a time. He was a lucky cat because all of this was his to share and enjoy.
On evenings in late spring I loved to wander through the garden of fruit trees in blossom simply to gaze at their delicate flowers filled with coloured pollen dust and to feel at peace with life and the universe. Listening to the calming sound of their leaves as they stirred in the breeze was, for me, an insight into the splendour of creation. As the evening became night I liked to linger in the garden, especially when the sky was clear.
Later in the year, when Toby Jug was a mature cat, he loved to share my night-time excursions and surprised me by wanting to play games with me. He would disappear and then suddenly reappear from out of the darkness, charging at me, and then crouch in the grass before he reached me, inviting a chase. When I made a mock dash towards him, he would race away to leap up the garden fence and station himself on the top in his lord-of-the-manor pose. It was interesting to see how his cat nature emerged so strongly at nightfall. I was intrigued that he seemed to want me to play with him as if I was also a cat. But this was still in the future because for the present Toby Jug had a lot to learn about the garden and about the feast of wonderful experiences it had in store for him.
Whenever the weather permitted being outdoors at night, I was astounded at the countless stars I could see above me. The sight of this timeless universe always filled me with such wonder that it put my life and Toby Jugâs into a very brief and insignificant perspective. At Owl Cottage, for the first time since childhood, I actually saw some shooting stars. The sight of them was a thrilling spectacle. I remembered to make a wish whenever I saw one.
Together Toby Jug and I could see all of this from the cottage garden, our window on the cosmos. To be here in this cottage garden and to experience all this was like a dream come true for the city boy who hated the enclosed boredom of school and played truant to wander through the
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