by Stella Coles

Created on: November 10, 2009   Last Updated: December 03, 2009

My garden did help me to learn about love and it helped me to survive its loss, both in different ways. When we lived in our last house, I loved my garden. It wasn't very big, but I wanted it to look colourful, so as much as I could, I always made sure that I had flowers to be in bloom all year round.

In the spring, the wallflowers grew in yellows, oranges and blood red. Their scent was divine and always brought with it the childhood memory of picking some from the garden to bring indoors, while Dad was gardening. Polyanthus peeked out with yellows, blues and reds; so very pretty they were. I used to plan the colour schemes I wanted. I had to have a cerise- coloured peony. No garden of mine was to be without one of them. When I was little, we had one in the front garden and I marvelled at its beauty, then without fail, there would always be a thunderstorm and the flower would topple over. Always memories, sweet memories of long ago.

I remembered the montbretia we had in clumps with its vivid orange flowers and long thin lime green leaves. Every time the flowers began to bud, I'd think of Dad. I had roses in my garden, with their sweet scents. All colours, mixing together with clematis, to create a truly wondrous sight. Whenever I touched their petals and smelt their perfume, I'd be transported back to childhood days when I'd help to do pruning or tidying up. I remembered the wild pink rose we could see from the dining room window. It brought me such joy to see that each day in the summer.

The summers in those days were long and hot, and brought forth pinks and sweet peas. Then I'd drift back once again to our old garden years ago. I'd think of when Mum used to plant pinks, and then our beloved Jack Russell, Rupert, would go out and dig them all up. We truly loved Rupert and he brought such joy. Mum loved to buy plants. She'd buy them, walk home with them, plant them, and then go inside satisfied with her work. She'd look out on carnations, pinks, lupins, delphiniums, oh and so many more. Rupert would go out and next thing, they'd all be dug up! He couldn't seem to grasp the fact that they should stay there. It was a game to him, with Mum chasing him down the path after he brought her a carnation in his mouth. We did laugh.

One day we heard Mum shouting, "Rupert, get down from there now!" We looked out and laughed again. He'd started to climb the netted fence between us and our neighbour and he'd got caught between the sweet peas. As much as Mum shouted, he

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