Trawling through some scanned photos on an external hard drive I came across a nostalgic shot of a little girl, running through the long grass at Orchards, my home at the time. It must have been in the early 1990s but I’m not certain.

Krysten in the long grass

It was the only time, whilst gardening at Orchards with Philip, that I managed to persuade him to leave the grass uncut, long after the daffodils had finished flowering. The front vista was awash with thousands of daffodils, in clumps of different varieties, and in my parents day, the grass was often left long, but only in the form of the clumps, being cut with an Alan scythe machine six weeks after the last clump had died back.

But this particular year we cut wide swathes through the otherwise long grass. I was in heaven, so many different varieties of grass and other wildflowers thrived and this little girl (the daughter of a friend of ours) spent hours playing in the grass, searching for the different grasses and wildflowers.

However, when late summer came and we had to hand scythe the now long and matted grass Philip was less than impressed with my romantic notion. It was the one and only time, he ‘allowed’ wildness in the grass as well as in my borders!

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