A garden is something that it's easy to take for granted. No, more accurately, a garden is something it's easy to forget about, allow to get into a terrible situation and then not be bothered with wanting to fix it up. I vividly recall the garden at my third-year student house being along these lines, with what can only be described as a "small, wild meadow" on the front lawn by the time we vacated the premises.
But I also have fond memories of gardens. As a kid, I used to like spending time in the garden at our house. I particularly enjoyed any time I was allowed to get out "the wigwam" (yes, I know it was almost certainly a tepee), plop an old cushion in it and pretend to be camping out in the back garden. I used to read out there. Hell, I used to study out there; I have oddly vivid memories of sitting out there in said little tent reading the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music's Rudiments and Theory of Music in preparation for my Grade 5 theory exam.
I also have extremely fond memories of going to visit my "Aunty" Sue and "Uncle" Peter's house, and them having outdoor garden parties. (The "Aunty" and "Uncle" are in inverted commas due to them not actually being relatives; they were the "friends of my parents" kind of "Aunty" and "Uncle".) They were rather well off, and had a huge house with a massive garden. It was probably more accurate to say that they had "grounds". As a kid, it was nice to have a safe, outdoor space that I felt like it was possible to actually explore, rather than be able to see the entire area from wherever you sit or stood in it.
Then there were my parents' other friends Pat and Keith (oddly, they were never an "Aunty" and "Uncle" scenario) who had a cool multi-level back garden with a rockery that I always enjoyed futzing around in. I remember one time we went to the Robin Hood Centre in Nottingham (they lived relatively close to Nottingham) and I came back with a kid's bow and arrow set, and I spent a good few hours just shooting the bow around the garden. My parents and their friends joked that I was going "cat hunting", because their cats Merry and Suki liked to hang out in the back garden, too, but I would never do a thing to harm them; they were very good cats indeed.
Just recently… well, for quite a while, actually, Andie has been working hard to make our back garden nice. It's been just sort of… there for quite a while, and it's been a gradual process of her sorting it out. The main thing she wanted to do was replace our horrible old shed with a brand new summer house-style one, which she did, but in doing so she was clearly bitten by the landscaping bug, because over time she's been doing up the rest of the space, sorting out the flower beds around the side and making a nice little "nook" down at the bottom of the garden with some comfy furniture to just be able to go and sit.
I went out there for a sit this afternoon. Not to go and sit and do anything, just to go and have a nice sit outside. I don't think I've done that for a very long time, and it was very pleasant to just sit outdoors, enjoy the nice breeze and the sunshine, and not have to think or worry about anything.
If I was in somewhat better physical condition, I might even be tempted to try and do some stuff in the garden myself, though I have absolutely no idea where one might start with such things, and Andie has kind of already taken care of most of the major things that need doing. I still might try and get involved a bit more, though. Just doing so will probably be a decent bit of gentle exercise, and that's something I could really do with on a slightly more regular basis.
Regardless of circumstances and purpose, I think I will probably be spending a bit more time out in the garden this summer; it's nice to get out of the house now and then, even if it's literally just into your own back yard.
Is this what it means to be in your mid-40s? I guess so. It's not so bad.
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