Though it is just in its infancy and unfinished, with more open ground than planted, the new garden beyond the barns has already deepened our connection with this place. Dubbed the Sand Garden, the working title which will probably stick, it has provided me the same opportunities as the sandpit my father made for us when we were children. I think it was Jung who theorised that if you could find the place where you lost yourself as a child, you could find a place of deep meditation and calm as an adult. And sure enough, the familiar feeling of being lost in a world of my own making, enhanced in this case by the very sand I’ve used as a top dressing, has rewarded me with the same opportunity for play all these years later.

I have always known that the act of gardening is my place of retreat and contemplation, but somehow the sand has emphasised the connection in this extension to the garden. The sand radiates light and is warm to the touch and I can already see plants that would struggle on our heavy loam responding favourably. When writing earlier in the summer and to reiterate, part of my experiment in the sand garden has been to cope with our increasingly polarised weather patterns. Drier growing seasons and wetter winters are a challenge when selecting drought tolerant plants and few are adapted to both. The sand should provide free-draining conditions in winter to open up a range of plants that simply aren’t possible on our heavy clay loam.