In early June and throughout July I always succumb to the charms of the summer and start to doubt my long-held belief that autumn is my favourite season.

Back in autumn 2009 I wrote about planting spring bulbs. I’m sure all gardeners, no matter what level their experience or how big their garden, enjoy the sight of the bulbs peaking out of the ground in late winter. Yet I continue to love autumn, as much for the smell of the damp earth and of bonfires (from allotments or Bonfire Night), as for memories of playing hide and seek and scrumping neighbours’ apples as a child; although this has little to do with gardening, of course!

Autumn and winter have a certain magic because of the glorious colours in the typical British garden. In autumn time, there are deep scarlets and bright reds, intense blues and purples, browns and whites: all have their place. In winter, there is the valour or sheer audacity of plants daring to flower, frequently with a scent made all the more beautiful by the lack of competition in the largely dead garden. A good example is described at Gardenfable blog, Daphne bolua, although the powerfully scented Sarcococca (Christmas Box) takes some beating.

Sorry, what was I saying about the summer time?

Having already witnessed the primroses and bluebells, the cascades of wisteria and masses of white hawthorn bursting out from the banks of railway cuttings or the side of building yards, summer arrives.  I sit on my commuter train and truly wish I could swap my desk-job for (unrealistically well-paid) gardening or nursery duties. I know some people get more of a kick out of watching their vegetables or fruit grow into something delicious and edible, but to me it’s the joy of seeing the dull suburban landscape of south London, Surrey or Berkshire transformed by marguerites (ox-eye daisies), loosestrife, sweet-peas and honeysuckle.

Still, nothing epitomises better to me what summer is all about than my dad’s back garden – pictures below and above. What once was a very formal rose garden now has a more cottage garden feel, enhanced by a ‘nature garden’ right at the back (including little boxes for hedgehogs). There is also a greenhouse packed with tomatoes sat adjacent to stacks of potatoes and beans. Sitting on a garden bench, watching the bees, hover flies and butterflies takes me back to my childhood, when I first learned the enjoyment to be had from gardening. Thank goodness my current home at least has a courtyard garden, no matter how small!

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Out go the old tomato plants, the potato plants, peas and butternut squash. In go daffodils, snowdrops, winter aconites, glory-of-the-snow, iris reticulata, crocuses, kaffir lilies and some grasses.

I also placed a winter jasmine out the front of the house and put some cyclamen hederifolium at the base of our magnolia the previous weekend. So we have a bit of colour to keep us going until the jasmine blossoms, which, fingers crossed,will continue up until the first of the spring flowers.

I was, though, disappointed at the lack of an even half-decent garden centre / nursery near to Brighton. Instead, as I was in a bit of a rush to get my hire car back in time, I had to put up with a quick search in Yell.com and ended up going to Wyevale’s. Although I managed to get a few of the above whilst there, there was precious little on offer that really made me stop in my tracks and tempt me to throw one extra plant in because it was so irresistable. It was like the plant equivalent of wandering around your local supermarket, compared to the nursery run by the local gardening eccentric – itself the equivalent, perhaps, of the most exquisite of delicattesens.

Once more, the homegenisation of the UK’s retail outlets. I will have to find some decent nurseries and get back to you.