… Call it an experiment, what I’m ‘on’ about …. over several years -Â until we can judge the garden that comes out of it. Unclear what the result will be (or should be, yet); even whether there will be a significant result. And yes, in our heads for now because there isn’t room for us all in the Walled Garden.
At this stage … clearing the (thick) intellectual undergrowth, so we know what’s there.
For instance: do we all agree what gardens are for? Is the experience of gardening remotely the same as the experience of garden visiting? What does a garden designer do? If the garden owner is not the gardener, what’s in it for either of them?
There is no consensus yet; and the gardeners themselves have been quite quiet - you, an honourable exception. Maybe they already know, and think it’s none of my business? Or too obvious to need saying?
I do like your proposition VERY much. It makes gardens just the spaces for gardening; and gardening itself something rather like an exercise bike for the soul. Exhilaration, guilt, pain, fulfilment - wonderfully curdled together. This solipsistic world is lovely; but I’d bet that sometimes even you in your garden get a thrill from things you don’t mention - perhaps from two plants placed just right side-by-side, or from the excitement of a visitor. From the rewards of designing, in fact.
I’m not a gardener, not your sort, and not yet maybe - it’s scary addictive stuff you tell me. But I do want a garden, and in a particular place where previously two really good gardens have been. I’m just trying to understand how best to make another good garden possible; or, if you like, who best can make one for me.
The gardener’s mania, so beautifully described by you as worry, concentration, freedom, and energy, does sound really convincing, if just a little bit of it can be borrowed for my project.
Better to make the plantsmen into designers, thinking wordlessly through their fingers; not the landscape architects into florists.