The Secret Garden

This morning I stood in the secluded garden of a very special house - the house we're moving into in two months time, with the garden in all its summer colour. I'd been thinking of the things I want to grow - lily of the valley, roses, hollyhocks, irises, peonies and fruit bushes. I'd been thinking, too, about the old tree in the garden, wondering whether it was healthy and whether it was a plum, a cherry or an apple, ornamental or the real thing.

Apple trees are important to me, not just for themselves, but for their symbolism. A tree can only grow up to the light if its roots reach down into the depths. There is a lovely carol 'Jesus Christ the Apple Tree' which is almost unbearably perfect. I've established two apple trees in this garden, and was hoping for another in the new one.

I walked round today with the gardener lady who'll be helping me. Vey experienced and knowledgeable she is, too, telling me the wheres and hows of establishing my roses and gooseberry bushes. I found lily of the valley by the little rockery, irises in one border, peonies in another, and even a hollyhock. (Lovely word, hollyhock.) I asked her about the tree.

"Apple, by the look of it," she said. We walked around it, inspecting the blossom. "It's too early to tell if the fruit's going to set - oh, yes, look at this, it's starting to set here. And it should be a good year for apples."

It should. Thank you, God.