Author Archives: David Graham Clark

The hellebores keep on giving

I first came across the allure of the hellebore nearly 20 years ago when watching the BBC programme Gardener’s World.  Inspired, I went off in search but found them scarce in mainstream garden centres, where they were rarely sold to advantage or at their best. In those days I was naïve to specialist nurseries andContinue reading “The hellebores keep on giving”

Frog seasons

The tell tale signs began to emerge a few weeks ago. Shifting a pile of newly delivered logs, a couple of semi-comatose puddocks required relocation to a safe damp spot. Then one wet late evening as I left the house for a dog walk, an inquisitive member of the family Ranidae, hopped straight towards meContinue reading “Frog seasons”

Heading Home: a miscellany of writings

In late 2020, on saying goodbye to four decades of work in academia, I resolved to devote time to something that had been bubbling up in my thinking for quite a while: the desire to continue writing, but to do so in a more creative and inventive manner. True, I’d recently written a biography whichContinue reading “Heading Home: a miscellany of writings”

Epiphanies and Robberies Chapter 2: Candlemas

Andrew, Michael and Anne-Marie meet up by chance after attending an event in the village Hub. They go on to share an impromptu meal in Kirkgate’s Lowther Arms and start to learn about each other’s circumstances, passions and struggles. The meal is a success and at the end of the evening, Andrew tells them aboutContinue reading “Epiphanies and Robberies Chapter 2: Candlemas”

Dogwood delights

A nurseryman once told me, with casual dismissiveness, that dogwoods belong only in carparks and on roundabouts. Like most gardeners I too have my botanical aversions, but I do object to this wanton demonisation of the dogwood. I say this with particular force just now, as the Winter is coming to its end. For withoutContinue reading “Dogwood delights”

Stacking wood

Robert Frost’s evocative poem, The Wood-Pile, mourns a beautiful ‘cord’ of maple: cut, carefully stacked in the forest, and then mysteriously abandoned. It is leaning precariously, sinking, long past its best and ‘far from a useful fireplace’. Discovered by the poet, on a wintry walk, Frost considers the apparent quitclaim of such an impressive wood-pile.Continue reading “Stacking wood”

Snowdrops at Candlemas

For such diminutive plants, it was a Herculean feat. After something like a month of frost, with the ground as hard as bell metal, and then with fresh snow falling, our old friend galanthus nivalis made it through in the nick of time. I find snowdrops always take me by surprise. After days of watchfulContinue reading “Snowdrops at Candlemas”

Epiphanies and Robberies Chapter 1: Rising Water

On 6th January 2023, in the aftermath of local flooding, three troubled people in the Scottish village of Kirkgate contemplate the year ahead. Obsessive academic, Michael Gilmour has been thrown out by his partner, who is unwilling to live any longer with his constant work obsessions. Newly retired GP, Dr Andrew Carlyle Stuart, has justContinue reading “Epiphanies and Robberies Chapter 1: Rising Water”

Floods in the garden

As the Christmas guests departed and the old year stumbled into its last few days, I was looking forward to a period of quiet contemplation, one or two pleasant walks, and a chance to check out upcoming tasks in the garden. It wasn’t to be. Just as the cheerful farewells were being said and theContinue reading “Floods in the garden”