The show garden is a way of thinking about a space from the ground up. Reducing a garden to its most basic elements and considering them in the context of the natural world.

Too much of gardening is about imposition. We inflict what we like on nature. With climate change we see nature pushing back. It has reached its limit.

What is a garden? and What is it to garden?

A garden is a cultivated space designed to feel natural. Not necessarily contextual within its environs but cohesive within itself. To garden is to facilitate the flourishing of plants.

Common to these perspectives is nature and the needs of plants, respectively. The needs of plants respond to nature. Plants adapt and have adapted over millions of years to inhabit their native ranges. As have we. We are both struggling.

First there was light. Then water. Then oxygen. At the centre of the garden is an open space completely flooded with water. In the centre of the water is an untouched landscape repeated to infinity. Plants here have adapted to the conditions in a constant life-death-life cycle of aptitude, failure, and refinement. They sit below an ever-encroaching water line.

Around the water is a walkway, constructed from a lattice of Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii). The lattice provides open views into the flooded central courtyard. To an early untouched moment in the history of nature. It provides glimpses and constrained views to the outside.

Outside, too, there is water. And there are plants. Plants of the hedgerows: cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris), herb-Robert (Geranium robertianum), plants with which we should be familiar. The kind of plants which every year get cut or poisoned. For neatness. Because that’s what we’ve always done. The plants to the outside of the garden are our present. Their view is obscured. They are becoming harder to find.

When you leave the garden your view of these plants in unobstructed on three sides. They thrive in an open deciduous woodland landscape, next to water, from sunny edge to darker centre. They are simple, abundant. They coexist in a world where they are permitted to do so, by us, the de facto dominant species. We let live. Despite our dominion. The view to the centre of the garden is now obstructed. It is a challenge to see the limits of a world untouched by us. We have encroached upon it to the point of irrevocability. We see the present and not the past and by ignoring where the two meet we can pretend we never touched it at all. Like it just happened.

The garden encourages us to think about time and connexion. About the basic building blocks of a garden. Not stone or concrete, but an environment conducive to the flourishing of plants. It encourages us to see what we have in front of us. What we’re losing. Because we’ve destroyed it. Because we’ve allowed it to die. It should put ourselves in perspective. Our impact. Humble and reduce us. To life amongst life. So that we might build something sustainable for the future, by remembering the past.