T R E N G W A I T O N
It’s time for a catch-up, isn’t it? Somehow it’s June already and I’ve got a backlog of photos from days out in Port Isaac and Wadebridge; trips to the Bedruthan steps and campfires at St Antony. And well, I’m not too sure where to start with it all!
So (to begin somewhere) last month Matt and I went to Trengwainton Garden. I’d been wanting to go for a while. And after watching The Chelsea Flower Show and attempting to whip our own patch of soil into shape (and realising we’ve only 4 months left to see all the National Trust spots before our memberships run out) a trip to Trengwainton seemed timely.
I’m a sucker for a walled garden; for raised beds, potting sheds, for vegetables grown in neat lines. For wheel-barrows and watering cans and bamboo poles arranged in mini-tipis for peas or beans. And a small huddle of wooden beehives? That is the good sh*t.
Perhaps, for me, a well-maintained vegetable garden is as close to heaven as you can get this side of the real deal. Give me a small cottage with ivy round the door, chickens wandering about and a well-stocked kitchen garden (maybe an overly friendly cat too) and that’s pretty much everything I want in life… Along with Matt of course. And I probably could be persuaded to relocate my garden to Provence or Tuscany, but otherwise, that is it for me.
Still I wonder why that is. In the same way I wonder why I like the paintings or music that I like; basically acoustic folk with environmental lyrics and most of the Romantics. Perhaps deep-down I feel the world is chaotic and cruel in its indifference? And so ordered rows of beetroot, sooth my soul in a way adult colouring-in books just can’t. Maybe somewhat akin to Capability Brown, I find a geometric landscape deeply calming. Maybe there’s a nostalgic association with the gardens of my childhood. Or perhaps I just inherited the garden appreciation genes, from my very white, Radio-4 listening, allotment tending relations? Who can say.
On a completely unrelated note, in my relatively short time in Cornwall, I’ve the pleasure of both knowing and working with photographer Ben Mostyn whose work, in my eyes, is complete goals. His wife Anya Rice (an amazing photographer in her own right, whose work is also goals) has put together a book – MAKE: Cornwall – compiling the work of 25 artists and crafters in Cornwall.
In her own words, it “offers a secret peek into our makers’ workspaces (whether a converted barn, garden shed or modern, town-centre studio), their tools and techniques and their making processes, with glorious photos of their finished products, as well as beautiful portraits of the makers themselves and the landscapes that surround them.”
To make this illustrated book a reality, Anya and her writing partner Katherine Sorrell are running a Crowdfunder campaign. So please do give that a visit and consider donating!