Have
you ever thought about opening your garden for Quorn Open Gardens? It's
not as daunting as you might expect, and people who have done so in the
past enjoy it so much that they continue to open each year or each second
year.
Your garden does not have to be huge - some excellent small gardens have
attracted large crowds at previous events. If you have time pressures,
you could just open on one day, and you don't have to provide refreshments
and cakes!
If you're interested in opening for the first time, contact us and we'll offer whatever help and advice that we can give.
The feature below was written by Gillian Bexon of The
Dower House
A garden is a lovesome thing ...' Well, yes, it is,
but it is also a good deal of hard work. I thought I detected an
air of reluctance as we began to consider what we would grow for
the summer this year. We have 'opened' the garden now for several
years and have always found it a very worthwhile weekend, though
we must admit that we probably spend more time getting the flower
beds to look their best than we would if they were not on view to
the public.
Taking part in Open Gardens concentrates the mind wonderfully. One
year we decided we had no time to improve a tatty area so I roped
it off and hung up a note declaring it under construction ... I now
have a charming herb garden and patio area where we can drink tea
in late afternoon sun. When I mentioned one year that we hoped eventually
to have a water feature, one man told me he was looking forward to
coming back the next year to see it! We rushed off to B&Q at
the first opportunity to buy lengths of plastic conduit etc. for
our new fountain. We can't afford to disappoint our fans!
The most difficult year of opening was probably our first, when
we had little accurate idea of what would be involved. Over four
hundred people came. My father-in-law, who sat at the gate to inspect
the passports, counted them. The weather was extremely warm, and
we were rushed off our feet serving cream teas, as it seemed that
most of the four hundred people decided they would take advantage
of the offer.
Because we were short-handed, I had little time to talk to visitors
in the garden and Ivan grew hoarse answering people's questions about
the history of the house, which seemed to interest visitors as much
as the garden itself. (I've given up on the cream teas, but the following
year Ivan did some research, then printed out a sheet which he handed
over as soon as people said, " How old is the house. ..?")
This year the weather was causing some of our gloom. It had been
a terribly wet, cold spring and very few plants were as advanced
as they might have been. Would there be anything very startling for
the general public to come and admire?
Luckily, the 'Opening' dates were later than usual. The summer weather
was not totally disastrous, and soon Nature - with some assistance
from us - was weaving its old magic. August suits our garden as we
have bedding plants, fuchsias and geraniums, most of which Ivan propagates
himself, so there was plenty of red, pink and gold to break up the
dozens of different shades of green provided by our trees and shrubs.
There's usually one focal point of interest amongst visitors, and
this year it was the petunias in rectangular boxes that Ivan had
wired to the top of the trellis archway. I lost count of the number
of people who politely peered to see how he had 'done' it.
I am always amazed at how little damage is done to the garden after
several hundred visitors have passed through. Apart from a slightly
'squashed' effect to the lawn, and perhaps a couple of buds broken
off, no one would guess that so many people had wandered about with
pushchairs, wheelchairs and even children on bicycles. Visitors were
generous with their praise and some awe-struck at the effort we have
to put in. "Do you have a gardener?" one asked. (We did
point out that we are both retired) One lady even breathed, "May
I walk on the lawn?" which vindicated Ivan's 'feed and weed'
policy - more successful now that the children have stopped using
the lawn as a football pitch.
Do you need a large and practically perfect garden before you consider
opening it to the public? No. People like to see what we've done
with our garden each season and how we've developed it over the years.
They commiserate with us over our 'hopeless' areas, (too shady, too
dry) and don't mind looking at our compost heap or the flowering
nettles under the trees; other people are looking for ideas, as well
as being able to comment on the fruits of our labour. (Watch out
for a spate of wired rectangular boxes on trellis archways for next
summer!)
Do you need to be an expert gardener? Again, no. We originally knew
nothing about gardening beyond common sense: you learn as you go
along.
Shall we continue to open the garden? Of course. Our pride in it,
and other people's pleasure in it, is reward enough. We even get
the chance to sit in it occasionally.
Is the weather a problem? Not really, if this year's experience
is anything to go by, though we shall probably stick to the rewarding
plants like fuchsias and geraniums. As for the weather during the
weekend itself, visitors provide their own consolation. If it's hot,
there is plenty of shade under the trees. If it's cool, it's perfect
weather for walking round the village. And if it rains ... well,
gardens need water, and anyway, there is always next year.