The Evolution of a Garden
In the beginning, our garden wasn’t much to look at. A wild, overgrown quarter-acre, it had thrived on neglect, becoming a forgotten little wilderness. Thirty years earlier, it had been a green space where my wife, Steph, played tennis as a child. She even kept a pony there! But those days were long gone, and if we were to reclaim it, there was work to be done.
We moved into our home in Rosemount in 2013. James was two, Charlie was under one, and Thomas had yet to make an appearance. With young children, creating a safe and inviting garden was top of our outdoor agenda.
Our heads spun with plans: a future mancave, a pigeon loft—I’ve kept pigeons all my life—a safe pond, an aviary, and, of course, a proper hen run. Steph, however, had her own priorities. She wanted the garden to be a family space first and foremost. As always, she was right.
Breaking Ground
The first task was to level the garden and seed a lawn. Over the years, great piles of topsoil and rubble had been dumped out there. That rubble would later serve as the foundation for the mancave, but for now, it had to be cleared. Steph’s father brought in a small digger, and without him, I’d probably still be out there shifting dirt by hand.
By the end of that summer, the transformation had begun. We had a lush lawn, a small vegetable patch, and a patio—perfect for a BBQ. Steph’s family has a great tradition of garden parties, and it felt good to start building a space for new memories.
The Magpie’s Touch
I’ve always had a magpie’s eye, an instinct born from my old days as an art student. I see potential in what others discard. Much of what’s in our garden now came from salvaged bits and pieces. With a little imagination and effort, you can do a lot with very little.
The garden has continued to grow and evolve. Things have been added, others taken away. Our wet Irish climate doesn’t treat wooden structures kindly, no matter how well they’re treated. Over time, planters and wooden decking have given way to brick patios.
The boys have outgrown their sandpit, and my once-precious lawn has become their football pitch. I know all too soon they’ll outgrow that as well. We have a fantastic treehouse—built to match the mancave—but it’s not used as much these days. I can already hear Steph making plans for that space, though she’s careful not to mention them in front of the boys. They’re still in no rush to grow up, and I’m in no rush to see them leave that magic and innocence behind.
A Living Space
Our garden is my favourite material thing about our home. It’s more than just a patch of land; it’s where I dream, build, and find peace. When I’m down there, I’m not just working—I’m creating, the cogs are turning. Whether it’s a better loft, an improved aviary, or a more social friendly area, there’s always something to build, something to make better.
Through Covid the mancave housed a cooler and a barrel of Guinness. It was a great place to be with the stove lit and a few friends being social while distancing. It’s a place that holds real charm and wonder. A collection of my life’s treasures are in that space; none of them worth anything of monetary value but each laced with stories and memories. Maybe I’ll visit them with this blog in the future. The shed is an ever-evolving space and these days it is undergoing another transformation. It is becoming a bit more organised with my art desk and tasteful storage for my books. My nicknacks are still on display but the “bar” is gone to a new home-not too far away. A few comfy chairs, a tv for football matches and a fridge equals a happy escape.
The animals, birds, and fish in our garden are as much a part of it as we are. I believe they should have the space they need to live comfortably. It irks me to see a bird in a tiny cage or a fish in a cramped bowl. I keep them the way I’d want to be kept if I were in their skins, and that brings me real joy.
The garden isn’t just a space—it’s a story. It’s grown with us, changed with us, and will continue to evolve as the years pass. It’s our little hidden gem.
Terence
