Self-sewn plants are some of the best
A few words about weeds and the call of the wild. Last month’s Chelsea Flower Show reminded me I am not much of a fan of overly ordered gardens or overly bred plants. My favourite flowered space is almost an accident.
There is a field by our beach hut in Denmark that is a yellow sea of buttercups, punctuated by marsh orchids, serenaded by sky larks, swooned over by lapwings. A newborn foal still unsteady on its feet staggers close to its mother. The hedges are full of feral lilacs and fragrant rugosa.
The Danes see the beach roses as weeds, alien invaders. Every year they raze them. Every year they return