Pick of the plums

Julie stared out of the window at her garden, mostly bare branches with only a few spots of colour in the deep red of the dogwood and silver cineraria. She sighed – it was that unsettling period after

CAROLS are playing softly, their melodies floating into the kitchen where Miranda is standing at the hob, gently stirring mulled wine. From the bubbling pot, the smell of cinnamon and clove wafts thro

Burdened by her job, Natalie turned to nature for comfort and found something rather unexpected

Richard Bowman tells how anyone can follow their passion to create the garden of their dreams

WINTER seemingly lasted longer than any other season in the year. With Christmas now just a distant memory, Nina decided to plan a project to fill the dark evenings. That was the best thing to do, to

THE toll of church bells was stifled by the winds. Sleet clawed my face as I pushed through the flurry. The orangery’s windows had shattered. Whichever way I turned, rattling, shaking trees bore down.