The year is bookended by storms. Having recovered from Eowyn earlier in the season we now see it out with Bram – not quite so destructive but a few significant losses nonetheless.

 

Another pine falls at the front corner of the garden (it is a vulnerable spot for winds swirling and gusting up the hill) and comes down on edge of the Roman garden somehow missing the Nautilus submarine and Ledoux column both directly in its path. Annoyingly though the root ball pulls up a section of the dry stone dyke which we had repaired in the spring. Part of the formal yew hedge here too is crushed and might not recover. So the sequence continues. A silver poplar is down at the top of the Parkland, and in the Woodland by the Fragile stone an old beech (which was mostly dead wood) snaps apart. There are a few precariously angled trunks and branches elsewhere, but we will see how everything settles.

 

The Heraclitus sign at the car park is blown down. The little kissing gate where it was located will need replaced – the sign itself is fine and will be put out again in the spring. There is nothing permanent except change…

 

The Italian alder in the Parkland is the last to lose its foliage, the Virgil brick shadow adjacent to it now concealed and partially protected by a leafy patchwork blanket.

 

Frost and sharp cold air starts some days, some days it does not lift at all, then it is wet and windy, at other times there are clear bright skies, and that lovely unexpected warmth of winter sun, so all in all a bit of a mixed bag for the end of the year.

 

There are a number of regular visitors. Our resident stoat has been out and about (it possibly lives in the rafters of the cottage) as well as at least one grey squirrel, whilst the hare is reluctant to be raised from its cosy form until the very last minute in passing.

 

As we come to the end of IHFs centenary year it is a chance again to reflect on what it means to be part of this place, the importance and influence of the garden, its challenges and rewards.

 

And of course it does not stop there – as one year moves into the next by coincidence we arrive at another significant anniversary for the garden, as 2026 will be 60 years since Ian and Sue arrived at Stonypath, with perhaps little or no knowledge of what the garden would become as it transformed over time into Little Sparta.

 

Growth of course never stops, destruction and decay are part of the process of the garden – we too are part of that cycle, always waiting and wondering what the next season brings, and reacting to its movements.

 

….

 

We end with a few more Finlayan words of wisdom – this time from his DETACHED SENTENCES ON FRIENDSHIP: