A very untidy umberella pine with birds.

Impacts on planet and garden

The Untamed Gardener

Aisling Blackburn

We are living in the so-called Anthropocene age. It’s a term that has been used to refer to ‘the period of time during which humanity has become a planetary force of change’ (Wikipedia 2026), and not in a good way. Have the last 200 years since the industrial revolution really kicked things off or was it earlier? Through farming activities, or more recent again with the discovery and implementation of nuclear power? Using a phrase that sounds like finding treasure - scientists are looking for a golden spike below our feet in rock formations, that measure how humans have altered the planet enough to end the Holocene epoch, and begin this new one; how human activity has altered the earth in such a way as to make our mark visible on it for millions of years to come. Time may be a man-made concept, yet real provable time does exist, somewhat like the rings on the trunk of an old oak tree is geological deep time. We saw the earth make its 365-day journey around the sun, and the moon repeat its 28/31-day cycle, the basis of the Gregorian and other calendars.

Nature has always been our guide to making sense of the world in which we live. So perhaps when spring or summer arrive unexpectedly, we ought not to be surprised but finally give up the debate of whether February 1 is the first day of spring or not. Especially now that humans are calling the shots, and there is serious confusion around flowering times, birds singing all night because of artificial disruption, not to mention cloudseeding... it’s a thing.

If only there was a way to meet the needs of humanity without creating chaos.

Gardening is one of those things that will keep you sane throughout these interesting times, I can guarantee it. In addition to working with plants and people, I’ve started to feed the birds just outside my kitchen window and watching them is a new and joyful activity, no need to wait until the finches arrive to eat the dandelion seed, they are already here. It has been fun to watch the tiny blue tits and coal tits, robins, goldfinch, and ones that have yet to be named, nibbling nuts every day while flitting about the front garden. The feeder hangs on a branch of the untidy Pinus pinea, the umbrella pine that grows at a 75° angle and offers all year-round shelter, oh they do love a conifer.

It is said that a good garden design will have one third evergreen and two thirds deciduous plants in it. Another design rule that I like and automatically implement is the concept of a secret garden. Unlike back in the day of Louis the XIV, when gardens were supposed to be viewed all in one go, usually from a height that gave the viewer a godlike vista. Intricately woven parterres were planted, encasing brightly coloured annuals, perennials, herbs, and bulbs with all year round interest to be enjoyed solely by wealthy upper classes. Lest we forget that the palace of Versailles was built on the backs of slavery and colonialism, unlike nowadays, most of the population of France could not enjoy them, I am thinking of the tunnels created in Strokestown house in Roscommon, passageways for staff, to keep them out of sight… however they had their own fun, I am sure.

Anyway, the rule of thumb to create interest in a modest garden is either to create a series of outdoor rooms or to plant tall shrubs, trees or fences in such a way as to obscure different parts of a garden and create character. To see a garden all in one go, can be unexciting, and as most of us are not pouring vast resources, human or otherwise into the maintenance of complex borders and planting schemes, cordoning off areas, is a neat way to make small gardens interesting.

When it comes to contemporary wildflower areas, it is okay to leave vast stretches for viewing, and no harm at all to intersperse them with trees. Cut pathways through the grasses and flowers, in which to wander and lose yourself amidst a sea of nature at peak summer; when an ancient instinct in ourselves is fulfilled, if only for a few moments, a deep longing for a relationship with the land.

I am very fond of this prairie style of planting, mixing native species alongside the likes of Miscanthus sinensis, or even tall annual rye grasses. There are crazy, huge thistles like Onopordan nervosum, and dainty perennials like angel’s fishing rod Dierama pulcherrimum that you might consider planting among the grasses, which love sunny dry poor ground. Check out the naturalistic gardens of Piet Oudolf.

The community garden is starting up again this Saturday in Jampa Ling. Enjoy the sunshine wherever you are.