No. 12 Autumn 2025
No. 12 · Autumn 2025
Notes on compost, cold frames, and the quiet work of keeping soil alive through the darker months. Ten essays from the plots, the borders, and the workshop bench.
A month of frosty mornings, one north-facing frame, and the seedlings that refused to be hurried.
Water tells you more about a plot in December than any soil test in June.
Scissors, paper bags, and an argument with the calendar.
Under the bare trees, the most civilised plant in the November garden opens its flowers.
Three parts preparation, one part courage — the honest truth about the oldest horticultural trick.
Every gardener has a trowel that fits the hand like a memory. The rest are scrapers by another name.
Wire brush, oil, and honesty are the whole syllabus.
Ten minutes with a stone at the end of the day keeps every tool honest.
It asks only for fallen leaves and time, and gives back a crumbly brown richness no bagged product quite matches.
The first hard frost is less an ending than a reorganisation.