Gold! Always believe in your community gardening project...
The results of this year's London In Bloom are in
Hello, you’re reading The Earthworm, an alternative gardening newsletter that takes a sideways look at the world of plants. The two best ways that you can support The Earthworm are to share this post with a friend, or consider upgrading to a paid subscription (gaining access to exclusive weekly content and the full Earthworm archive). Thanks for reading.
Wednesday evening. My son’s bathtime. I feel a buzz in my left trouser pocket. I poke the top half of my phone out into the light and glance down. A Whatsapp notification from the local community gardening group. It can wait.
A few seconds later, another buzz. Then another. Someone trying to organise an impromptu seed-sorting session, I guess; or maybe a report of another dumped mattress on one of the street beds. But the messages keep coming. Their frequency and cadence tells me this is no mere fly-tipping incident.
I interrupt my son’s 74th consecutive chorus of Yellow Submarine and pull my phone out of my pocket. The first message is a screenshot, captioned only with the word: “WHAT”. I tap open the image and scan the snapshot of a poorly formatted Word document. In bold at the top, “Small London Village”. A few lines further down, past a short list of place names I’ve never heard of – Kyle Bourne Village Gardens? – and there it is, the source of all the excitement:
“Queens Boundary Community in Bloom. Gold & Winner.”
No-one gets into community gardening for glory.
The reasons people do get into it are many and varied. Some have limited or no access to outdoor space. Others are in rented accommodation, and so aren’t able to make a mark on whatever outdoor space they do have access to. For some people it’s a chance to get out and meet their neighbours, have a friendly chat and enjoy a cup of tea. Others treat it like a workout – shorts on, headphones in, dig, dig, dig. Some want to do their bit to attract biodiversity, or to beautify bland concrete streets.
And then there are those that just can’t get enough of gardening: any opportunity to get their fingers in the soil, to pull up a weed, to divide some New Zealand flax, they will be there, boots on, spade in hand, raring to go.
I myself got involved in the local group for a combination of reasons. I wanted to get to know neighbours with a shared interest in plants and gardening; I wanted to top up my hands-on gardening; I wanted to contribute positively towards my local area. I never thought we would win an award for our efforts. No-one did.
The Queens Boundary Community (QBC) community gardening group has a wide remit. The area is blessed with a number of street beds (some more recently added thanks to petitioning from volunteer gardeners). Each of these is managed by one or two keen residents, responsible for the planting, the pruning, the weeding and the watering.
Then there’s the local cemetery – a quiet and, historically, horribly neglected site – which in the past few years has also fallen under the benevolent care of the QBC gardeners, and been transformed into a wildlife haven in the process.
Managing the cemetery site is a constant battle against an unrelenting foe in the form of Canadian fleabane – a fast-spreading, not particularly attractive wildflower which has rather unrespectfully made itself at home among the weathered burial slabs. Earlier this year, during a pollinator survey conducted by an independent expert, a rare wasp species was sighted at the cemetery, a wonderful validation of all the dozens of hours of fleabane-weeding, meadow seed-sowing, and wildlife-welcoming efforts there.
But the jewel in the QBC crown is Thomas Gamuel Park, a small but well-utilised assortment of grassy patches, picnic tables and play areas serving the surrounding streets. And when I first moved to the area seven years ago, that was all it was: somewhere to walk the dog. Somewhere to sit. Somewhere to push a toddler on a swing. Today, it is a beautiful, colourful, lively horticultural gem – and an award-winning one at that.
You might reasonably be wondering how someone can judge one community gardening project against another. Clearly, these things are subjective.
On this occasion, it just so happened that the London In Bloom adjudicator doing the walk-around appreciated the focus on whole-season plant cover; on habitat creation; on street level flood and rainwater containment; on native, low-maintenance, drought-tolerant planting; on chemical-free plantcare. He also noted and commended the enthusiasm and knowledge that had gone into the creation and curation of the various planted areas which, in his words, are “a genuine delight”.
The point still stands, of course, that you don’t need some bloke with a clipboard to tell you that your community gardening group has done a good job. Seeing dog walkers stop to smell the flowers tells you everything you need to know. As does hearing about the neighbour who says that she goes to the park to find inspiration for her own garden. As does the presence of Red Admiral caterpillars on the deliberately unweeded nettles, and the adult butterflies fluttering around a banquet of buddleia blooms.
What the bloke with the clipboard does come in handy for, however, is money. It’s the same illogical irony that goes into funding sporting governing bodies between Olympic cycles: the better your results, the more funding you receive. Winners are supported to keep winning; those in need of assistance are left fighting for survival.
But for the QBC gardeners, and more importantly for the community that we serve, this award should lead to more investment from the council, and so the virtuous cycle of botanical improvements and increased funding can continue ever upwards.
I’ve spoken in the first person about the QBC gardeners and our/their work and accomplishments, but honestly – as in, truly honestly, with not a jot of false modesty – I can’t take a single scrap of credit for any of this. Sure, I’ve buried a few hundred iris, daffodil and crocus bulbs in my time; done a spot of weeding; planted a few seedlings; but I’m a part-timer at best. There are many others who have done much more.
The brains, the muscle, the indefatigable energy behind the whole operation is my neighbour (I know, they’re all my neighbours), Caz Scott.
Caz is one of those people. Always busy, always planning, always plotting. An organiser, a motivator, a gin-supplier, but above all a plant obsessive with real horticultural pedigree. The sort of person who, in the face of a gold medal and public validation for her vision, doesn’t rest on her laurels, but rather lists how much more there is to be done; how much better things could be next year. The sort of person who, when asked for one or two photos to accompany a Substack post, sends through 16 images, 4 URL links, and a series of helpful expository messages. But listen, you don’t win top prize in the Small London Village category at the annual London In Bloom comp by doing things by half.
Caz probably wouldn’t appreciate being singled out – no-one gets into community gardening for glory – but this gold medal, this recognition, is hers. We all know it. And now you do too.
Do you garden as part of a community group? Have you ever planted in public? Maybe you’re a renegade guerrilla gardener… Please do share your experiences!
Congrats! This feels like the Oscars (or BAFTA Awards?) of the community gardening world! And thanks for introducing us to this cool group of folks (including you) who are truly making a difference in the neighborhood!
I'm still waiting for them to hand out the trophy for Best Improved Hell Strip in the Pittsburgh Area.
This is wonderful! Thank you for sharing. It’s one of those things that brings different walks of life together.