So, it appears that in the mid-1970's, someone named John Brookes who lived in the U.K. decided to write a book about small gardens. It is chock full of full-color pictures (ok not really full color, mostly earthtones and greens), and hardbound, and it is difficult to picture lugging it into the garden to read. But, I don't do much garden reading anyway, so I suppose that is not really an issue. I read it a few pages at a time, in bed before going to sleep.
While I do, from time to time, putter about in the garden a bit, I wish to make it clear that I am in no way the sort of person to whom this book is addressed. It is intended for a far more ambitious gardener, who wishes to make a modest-sized, yet still decorative work of art out of their tiny back yard or apartment balcony or what-have-you. I am not that person. I am, rather, the sort of person who a week ago got told (in a piece of registered mail) by the city of Austin that I had 30 days to make sure my back fence was in good repair. My first thought was, "what fence?", because I got rid of the fence a decade ago owing to its unfortunate propensity to fall to pieces. Now the primary reason for this bit of passive-aggressive behavior by the city is no doubt that they are short on cash and wish to issue a lot of fines as a way to fill their coffers again, but it should be admitted that my back yard looks a bit too much of an easy mark for this kind of thing. My wife has described the look of our backyard as "Appalachian", or maybe that was me. I can raise some plants worth eating bits of (basil and lambsquarter and amaranth and malabar and such), but no one is going to mistake my garden for being decorative. So, why did I read this book, you ask? Perhaps to motivate me to change my ways, in this regard?
Unlikely. If I were the sort to keep my surroundings tidy, it would have manifested itself before age 53, and also I would not have married the particular woman who I did. Rather, I just enjoy looking at the many ways in which other people, and perhaps especially other times and places, chose to arrange their surroundings. There is something so very 70's about this book, and I cannot necessarily put my finger on it but it probably has something to do with the art style and the color balance of the photography. There is also something very British (or perhaps just European) about how every two or three pages it refers to how one must check with the local authorities before doing X, Y, or Z in your own garden. But then, as we have discussed, I am not one to be on always great terms with even an American local government in this regard. The book also makes rather more references to how to make sure your garden can withstand, and even be of some use in, the long depths of winter, which is not a primary concern in Texas in most years. If it actually descends into the temperature ranges where water loses its liquid nature, we retreat into our houses and await the End Times. It is not a thing we prepare for.
They did give a fair amount of advice on what to do and not do, that was worth considering in my case. How to make a compost bin that is not entirely unsightly, for example. It was also calming, to see such tidy, yet not too tidy, but rather well-calibrated-in-its-untidyness gardens, and that was a good choice to gaze at just before sleep. Just don't expect me to do too much of it myself, unless you send legal notice of some sort.