Clippings No.9 Enjoy the Journey

Why shortcutting your garden might just shortcut your joy and what the scenic route can teach us instead... the joy of gardening isn’t in getting it right. It’s in getting gloriously lost.

Planning a journey? Well, you could always take the motorway. It’s fast. Efficient (sometimes). Gets the job done. Barely needs thinking about once you’ve merged on. Staring ahead, barely a cursory glance either side.

But have you noticed how motorways all look the same? A blur of barriers, beige service stations, and a monotony of signposts, maybe the odd sign for an amusement park you’ll never visit. There’s no stopping to admire the view, no tiny villages to detour through, fields of poppies to drool at, no homemade jam at a welcoming and rustic farm gate.

Now imagine the scenic route.

It’s longer, yes. Slower, undoubtedly. Full of bends and mystery turnings. But goodness me, it’s got charm! You’ll pass ancient trees and unexpected viewpoints.
Little lay-bys where you can pause and breathe. You might get lost once or twice (probably more). You might discover a pub that serves suspiciously strong cider and completely forget what day it is.

You’ll remember that journey long after you arrive.

Starting a garden is very much the same. You can choose the shortcut. Whack down some weed membrane, plonk in a few evergreen shrubs all equidistant and aligned, and spread gravel like you’re resurfacing a car park. Call it ‘low maintenance’ and feel very pleased with yourself. But… what’s the point if you never step off the path? You walk straight ahead, without the need to even turn your head.

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The continually evolving no-dig Flower Garden

Where the magic grows

The real magic, the heartbeat of a garden, is in the meandering route. It’s in the trial and error. The surprise self-sown foxglove and aquilegia. The bit you swore you’d sort next year that somehow became your favourite corner. It’s in standing ankle-deep in compost wondering where it all went wrong. It’s in the moment you finally understand why that rose sulked for two years and then burst into bloom like a star-lit diva on stage.

Gardens are not tasks to complete. They’re not Ikea furniture or tax returns.

They’re living, breathing things. To shortcut your way through is like eating instant noodles in a Michelin-stared restaurant. Functional, yes. Quick, definitely. But oh, you’re missing all the flavour, the ambience, and an entire experience.

I’ll admit, on Instagram I’ve made things look far more instant than they really were. All those before-and-afters transformations can be unintentionally misleading. In reality, my gardens are always evolving. Even the so-called “makeovers” often took place over months, even years. I make mistakes all the time.

But I keep learning and that’s where the real magic grows.

Every good gardener I know…

Has led an error-strewn life, learning their best lessons by getting gloriously lost along the way. Maybe they’ve planted things in the wrong spot. Pruned things at the wrong time. Thrown seeds about just to see what happens. Moved plants, just because. And that’s where the joy lives. In the chaos. In the curve. In the things that don’t quite go to plan but bloom gloriously anyway.

So if you’re just starting out, or even if you’ve been gardening for years but still find yourself tempted by the odd ‘quick fix’, may I gently suggest:

Take the scenic route.

Stop at the viewpoints. Pack snacks. Admire other gardens without shame. Let your own evolve slowly, one curve and crooked step at a time. Keep learning. Keep wandering.

You’ll get to your destination, eventually.

But oh… what a journey it could be 🌿

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Further Reading – if you fancy another wander…

If today’s post has you dreaming of slow strolls, crooked paths, and gardens with heart, you might enjoy these recent stories from my own patch:

You can take a peek at our Courtyard Garden, a small space brimming with vintage charm, all the greens, and seasonal stars. Or stroll through the Flower Garden, where blousy borders emerged from a spartan lawn and far too many roses. If you’re more of a veg patch sort, I’ve also written about the Cornerstones of my Kitchen Garden, all raised beds, mulching, seasonal rhythm, and the smell of tomatoes on warm hands.

Each space had its own learning curve.
Each one taught me to slow down and enjoy the ride.
Each one has been full of wonderful surprises.

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Coming up…

Paid subscribers can enjoy their first exclusive post: a deep dive into the glorious mess of compost. I went behind the scenes at SylvaGrow to uncover how peat-free compost is really made, from bark piles and coir to conveyor belts, soil labs, and the surprising science of consistency. It’s was a truly fascinating day.