Barefoot at Kew

Orchids, 2022 (see end of post)

Barefoot on the grass of Kew

My relationship with Kew Gardens, or the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew, is almost as old as I am. I have a toddler’s memories of tuppeny turnstiles (or maybe it was a penny?) at the entrance and the excitement of the rattle and clunk of the entry and a world that opened into endless possibilities with an adult trying to restrain both body and imagination of a small person sure that this time the Stone Lions by The Pond would wake up... 

Landmarks chart that relationship through years….

waiting for the carp to rise in the Palm House Pool. “Feeding the ducks” took on a whole new perspective at Kew: there were these huge, half-hidden creatures that made the water swirl, that gulped and splashed and were never quite visible. A swirl of the murky waters…could have been anything!

 

being amazed by the fish in the waterlily house, guppies warming in the warm shallows while “escaped” terrapins hung in the water or lounged on the edges. Tropical wonders while a huge Victoria amazonia uncurled in the middle of the pool

having a safe teenage crush on the statue of Hercules in the Palm House Pool: what was there not to love? All muscle and curves and no possible embarrassing conversations and mistaken looks

meeting my first Ginkgo tree as it fluttered delicate golden leaves into an autumn breeze

 reading Keith Claire’s The Tree Wakers, a story of strange, botanic delight set in Kew. Absolutely captivating and inspiring….

 

watching a golden pheasant strutting, glowing, across the lawns in front of the Pagoda

 

the refuge that the then new Princess of Wales conservatory offered a young man missing the warmth and vibrancy of African flora

New zealand koru unfurling

  I still return to the P of W after all these years, pausing on benches tucked into odd leafy corners to be still and appreciate warmth and humidity and a world experienced in shades of green. I finished my first reading of Keri Hulme’s The Bone People there. The fern rooms with their uncurling tree fern kore echoed the imagery and setting and richness of the book

 

then, 20 years ago, there were cheerful summer sessions delivering workshops for the Friends of Kew, making processions of giant fish people or printing leaf patterns or decorating tiny treasure chests to fill with treasures combed from walks through the gardens

and more recently, being captivated by a set of woven-willow characters cavorting across a lawn. “How wonderful! They’re just the sort of things I would expect my friend Woody to make…..O. They were made by Woody!” See more of Woody Fox's work here

In a life of self-employed uncertainty, the Gardens have offered a constant, as a ripple of enchantment and wonder through years of never being sure what might happen next, what work might, or might not, come

And another repeat: walking the paths of the Princess of Wales Conservatory barefoot….walking all of the gardens barefoot, relishing in the textures of grass, the warmth of tarmac, rough stone, pine needles. 

A rich connection.

The wind rattles our twigs into voices,

Into words no-one else knows,

Songs of willow and water and wanting

Filling the night with a dry, rustling anticipation.

from Treelings: my poem inspired 

by Woody's dancing willow-folk

Images in this post:

all photos are by Gordon MacLellan, except

Treelings c/o Woody Fox 

and the cover of Tree Wakers by Claire Andrews 

(follow link in text for publication details)

Orchids at Kew: the annual orchid festival in full swing in the Princess of Wales Conservatory just now: a spectacular plunge into 

the richness of a Costa Rican rainforest.

Find out more