Back to Isabella Plantation

Having skilfully voided Isabella Plantation in Richmond Park for a few years I then get tricked in to going there twice in a few months.

In May it was the bluebells that caught the eye but as Summer starts to fade it is the heathers that have their turn to shine.

The sun chose not to shine though and they greyness did me a favour by keeping the usual hordes away.

The gravel path here should be guiding them through the gardens but it stands empty and lonely.

And that's just how I like it.

The thick flower beds cling tightly to the central path as it slips gently down from the top of the garden to the duck pond at the bottom.

And in those beds large clumps of flowers jockey for position, each eager for light, water and space to grow, like any family.

Each family has its own distinctive shape, style and colour but when they all come together the effect is a surprisingly harmonious blend rather than the discord that might have been expected.

It's as warm and welcoming as a patchwork quilt.

But the heathers do not get it all their own way.

The smallest of rivers trickles through the garden and the lush broad-leafed plants in triumphant British Racing Green guard it jealously.

Their strength overpowers the thin wispy plants who wisely keep their distance. Millennia of competing for survival has taught them when to fight and when to leave be.

Lifting you eyes slowly from the watery domain you first see the tall bushy flowers and then, looking higher still, the trees that give the plantation its name.

The variety and harmony of Isabella Plantation combined with its tranquillity are what call people to it and what makes them keep coming back.