Inspiration from failure.

I've been dipping into Monty and Sarah Don's book, 'The Jewel Garden' and it's really reassuring to read that, at the height of his fame, his garden still was evolving and whilst he was talking about it in it's perfect form the truth was very different. He tells how he gave a talk to the Horticultural Society of New York and embellished the visual images of his garden as he tells here; "The garden I described was rich with a wide range of plants, all in perfect condition, and all flowering exactly when and how we wanted, the succession and combinations dancing and glowing with true jewel-like intensity. It was a garden that I fervently wished to see and that we truly intended to make but alas which bore little resemblance to one that had ever existed - let alone our immature plot back in England". This backfired when the garden editor of America's House & Garden asked to feature this wonderful garden in the magazine and Monty and his wife had to race out and buy lots of plants and plant them up before he arrived.
In my very small way this was duplicated when Luke's Mum asked me about my black and white garden without realising it was the very border we were both looking at. Of course the rogue pink foxglove which cheekily snuck it's way into the monochrome scheme and which I left there just for it's audacity didn't help her work it out. My black elder is pretty dark and the calla lily is true black as are the grasses but I'm probably kidding myself when I think it's a monochrome border. Just you wait till the hollyhocks are out though (unless the sun gets behind the flowers and lights them to a dark brown). Then I should have huge spires of black and white rosettes. Lukcily the leaves are huge so should shield the sunlight and provide an emerald backdrop to these gorgeous showy flowers. If this works (or if it doesn't) I shall show you photos of them in flower. It always makes me a little sad when certain flowers; hollyhocks, giant scabious, etc, burst forth as it is the onset of autumn and then winter and I don't want to be reminded of cold, bleak days with little in the garden. I did begin with 'the bones' of the borders by planting evergreen shrubs first before dressing them up with the showy annuals and perennials. I'll be pleased of these dependable evergreens when most things have been cut down by the first frosts. But for now I can breath deeply, feel the sun warm my shoulders and watch the breeze make my acer branches dance. It truly is a lovely time of the year.