Gardening is a great hobby. It’s been said that more people than ever before started gardening during the covid lockdowns. It’s great to be outside. You get to be imaginative, creative and see something grow from seed to wow. When you stand back and see the fruits of your labour, with a nod to ‘I did that’, it’s one of the most rewarding past times there is.

For over 15 years I had dabbled in gardening jobs. Part time here. Part time there. When we bought our home the garden was a sea of gravel, with cliffs of wooden decking and a huge greenhouse whose occupants were dirty, big eight legged things.

There was no end vision, just an aim to create a little slice of our own heaven. We had small ideas in the beginning. Bye bye to the gravel, the slabs and some of the decking. Farewell to the thousands of empty, plastic pots. And toodooloo to the buried pond with its submerged junk of old furniture and a random computer.

As the years have gone by, I’ve learned more and more about how to cultivate and care for our small patch of green. There is a fresh lawn, flowerbeds, a vegetable garden and entertaining spaces. We have a pond and an aviary. It’s taking years to get to this stage. But it’s ours. I’m proud to be a daughter of a great gardener and to have been taught what she knows. I’m also proclaiming to be proud of how much I have learned by myself just by tending to my garden. It’s not often that I’ll be proud.

Today I was hired to overhaul a garden of one of my closest friends mum’s. It wasn’t in bad shape. It just needed a quick revamp, some maintenance tips and advice. What happened was so much more than I ever expected.

I’ve met ‘Nanny’ three times. Once at her daughter’s engagement, the wedding and again at a baby shower. Each and every time, ‘Nanny’ has been one of the most warm and welcoming people I have ever met. As one of the last couples to leave the wedding chapel, the day her daughter got married, she walked up to us, looped her arm through mine and talked to me like we’d known each other for years. She asked about me, and only me, despite being the biggest day of her daughter’s life. The same happened at the baby shower, the shower she was hosting, she sat specifically with me to talk. To me. When she talks to you, you feel like the only person in the room. You have her whole attention. It shocks me to realise how very little time I’ve spent with ‘Nanny’ and how high in my regard she sits.

Today, I was the only person in the room. And it was my turn to listen. We discussed anxieties that she had. I won’t lie, I never ever would have thought it was possible for this ray of utter sunshine to live with anxiety. She’s open about it. She caught me off guard. It was like meeting her for the first time. We talked like old friends.

After a good cuppa, we got to talking about the garden. What was needed help wise, what she would like to achieve and what I could teach her. It makes me nervous to ‘teach’ because gardening is an infinite education. You literally learn something new every time you step outside. No gardener can ever claim to know everything. After a few surprises hidden beneath laurels and a few pesky weeds, we found a steady rhythm and talked our way through the hot day.

‘Nanny’ called me Plant Doctor and I forgot I was even there to work. We took a small break to neck a glass of water and eat our snack bananas and as she spoke I realised how strange this situation was. I have, since first meeting this lady, spent all of 15 or so hours in her company. At parties, in big rooms, mainly drunk on my part. This was a first. It was strange and yet oddly calming. Comfortable. Sitting and talking so easily. The strangest part is, it didn’t feel strange at all.

I inherently overcompensate around new people because subconsciously I don’t want them to see my nerves. So I’m loud and weird and OVER. THE. TOP.

And yet today I was just me. Talking about plants. Geeking out about soil. And trading insider tips on pruning hydrangeas.

This morning I felt nervous to be a teacher. However as I left this afternoon I felt as if I was the one who had learned a valuable lesson. Nothing is as it seems on the outside. We have to peel back the layers of overgrown grasses, the odd self seeded flower and the struggling rose to see all that beauty underneath.

Be you. Be kind. Tend to others. Live with your eccentricities, don’t hide them away. Talk, talk, talk to everyone who makes up the garden of your life. It’s only then that you’ll realise how many truly vibrant colours there are planted into its borders. It’ll make you proud and very, very humble.