It’s winter. I’m not a great one for curling up by the fire with a seed catalogue. They’re usually very wordy, short on pictures, with anodine sowing and cultivation notes. A book about gardens, or plants, plant hunting or gardening however, is much more cup of tea. But so much depends on the author and, naturally, the photographer.

A row of garden design books on a bookshelf, spines facing out, featuring titles on garden designers, planting and tree species.

First off, the books I use the most for my work. No, they are not technical tomes about soil composition of how to haunch the edge of a patio, but primarily books about plants.

Plants

Book cover of Right Plant Right Place by Nicola Ferguson, showing a close-up orange flower above a row of six smaller plant photographs.

A gardening classic with over 1,400 plant recommendations, organised by site and situation to help match the right plant to the right spot.

Right Plant Right Place

The most thumbed book on my whole bookshelf is Right Plant Right Place by the late Nicola Ferguson. The phrase was first coined by Beth Chatto, if you plant something in the best possible position for it it (almost) can’t fail. And the most referred to chapters are those about planting in shade. London gardens are notoriously shady, be they in the shadow of tall buildings, neighbours’ trees or even their own fences. Every garden has got a slightly unloved corner where it would seem almost nothing will thrive. Beth Chatto might have had the number on planting under trees in her Woodland Garden book, but Nicola trumps her when it comes to dry shade and dense shade. Other valuable chapters are on plants for heavy clay soils and long flowering perennials.

Book cover of Christopher Lloyd's Garden Flowers, featuring a close-up photograph of a vivid orange dahlia in full bloom.

Christopher Lloyd's expert, opinionated guide to perennials, bulbs, grasses and ferns, drawn from decades of hands-on planting experience at Great Dixter.

Christopher Lloyd’s Garden Flowers

Once I’ve made a selection for a garden I like to have a quick look at Christopher Lloyd’s Garden Flowers. No glamorous photos here but at times quite a witty take, and 70+ years of experience, on the delights or failings of many popular garden flowers. Recently, in looking for spring bulbs for a client I came across his description of Camassia quamash, “whose Indian (native American) name, quamash, indicates their edibility with its onomatopoeic, scrunching sound.” He admits to making that up but thought it should be true. Not that I agree with him all the time, one of my favourite flowers, the bright blue Catananche caerulea, is described as “a mildy pleasing but second-rate plant.”

Book cover of Time for Trees by Barcham Trees, showing golden autumn woodland with sunlight filtering between the trunks.

A practical reference from tree specialists Barcham, helping choose the right tree species for UK gardens and landscape planting.

Time for Trees

The third of this trio of reference books is Barchams Time for Trees. Barchams is the tree supplier to the King, and the Queen before him. Obviously there’s some self-interest in this book and I was given it for free at a trade fair. However, it has lots of photos and good descriptions of hundreds of garden trees. It is particularly good at describing many different culitvars, I can’t tell you how useful this is when eyeing up several different varieties of cherries or magnolias say. It’s much easier to compare and contrast with a book than it is online.

Garden writing

Now for a bit of garden writing. I’m reminded of the quote that “writing about music is like dancing about architecture” and so how can writing really convey to the reader anything about a garden? The answer is, in the way that detective novels are fascinating but do not reveal the true awfulness of a murder, garden writing is enjoyable without actually having to get dirty or cold and wet or do your back in or weed that border for the nth time … Here are three that I’ve really enjoyed.

Book cover of Dear Friend & Gardener by Beth Chatto and Christopher Lloyd, set against a green leaf-vein background with an inset photo of daffodils.

A warm, witty exchange of letters between two of Britain's most respected gardeners, sharing seasonal observations and the rhythms of gardening life.

Dear Friend and Gardener

Back in the day when people actually wrote letters, and complete sentences, Christopher Lloyd and Beth Chatto enjoyed a very lengthy correspondence. Subjects ranged from writing about their own gardens, each other’s gardens, lots of other gardens, lots of (to my mind) unfathomable advice and there’s some terrific name-dropping thrown in too. The resultant book, Dear Friend and Gardener, is so good I’ve got two copies.

Book cover of Urban Gardener by Elspeth Thompson, decorated with illustrated pots, plants, birds and garden tools around a central yellow panel.

A charming, practical guide first published in The Sunday Telegraph, full of ideas for making the most of small city gardens, balconies and courtyards.

The Urban Gardener

Sadly it seems most of the writers featured so far are no longer with us. Both Christopher Lloyd and Beth Chatto lived to ripe old ages at least, proving that gardening is indeed good for you. Elspeth Thompson, in the ordinary course of events should still be alive, but she suffered from depression and took her own life at the age of 49. Gardens can’t heal all it seems. She left two books, the first of which is The Urban Gardener, three years of Telegraph columns about the trials and triumphs in her garden and allotment in inner city London.

Book cover of The Well Gardened Mind by Sue Stuart-Smith, with an illustration of a human profile formed from green leaves and branches.

A thoughtful exploration of the psychological benefits of gardening, written by psychiatrist and keen gardener Sue Stuart-Smith.

The Well-Gardened Mind

This brings me to my third choice for garden writing, Sue Stuart-Smith’s The Well-Gardened Mind. Sue is married to the Tom Stuart-Smith (more of him later) and is a psychiatrist. In an age of well-ness, biophilia and other 21st century tropes, here is an evidence-led exploration of not only why gardening is good for you, but how gardening is good for you. Thankfully this is not a self-help book but is rewarding and uplifting with lots of case studies.

Inspiration

Book cover of Tom Stuart-Smith: Drawn from the Land, showing frosted ornamental grasses beneath copper-toned clipped beech hedging.

Written by Tim Richardson with a foreword by Piet Oudolf, this book charts Tom Stuart-Smith's naturalistic, plant-led approach to garden design.

Drawn From The Land

The final group of books are ones I turn to in need of inspiration or just a dose of garden porn if you like. None of these bears any relation to either my own garden or indeed the suburban gardens I design. I can but dream…

First up, Tom Stuart-Smith’s Drawn from the Land. Beautiful gardens and beautiful photography. The gardens range from award winners at the Chelsea Flower Show, London courtyards, country house gardens, a Moroccan paradise garden, arid Mediterranean hillsides and many gardens open to the public. I’ve been lucky enough to see a few of these in the flesh and he never disappoints.

Book cover of The Gardens of Arne Maynard, showing a misty wildflower meadow filled with ox-eye daisies beside a neatly clipped hedge.

A richly photographed survey of designer Arne Maynard's work, capturing his signature mix of crisp structural hedging and soft, naturalistic planting.

The Gardens of Arne Maynard

Another monograph I’ve enjoyed is The Gardens of Arne Maynard. Much more associated, in my mind at least, with the gardens of ancient houses and landscapes. Unashamedly romantic and definitely not low maintenance, he particularly favours old fashioned roses, topiary and often features bucolic kitchen gardens. I’ve also seen a couple of his gardens, including his own in Monmouthshire which is one of my favourites. The photography, mostly by William Collinson, is lovely.

Book cover of Desert Gardens of Steve Martino, showing agave and yucca planting beneath a mesquite tree against a red rendered wall.

An exploration of Steve Martino's bold, architectural desert gardens, showing how native and drought-tolerant planting can create striking, sculptural landscapes.

Desert Gardens of Steve Martino

This next one is a bit left field and never in my wildest dreams would I ever be asked to design anything in this sort of landscape, let alone with this level of style and minimalism. The Desert Gardens of Steve Martino are designed and built in the semi-desert-like region of south-western USA. An early pioneer in the use of native plants adapted to the arid landscapes which are sometimes subject to heavy downpours, his gardens use walls to construct views and create privacy to making beautiful minimalist outdoor rooms. If you want to see gardens which are the complete opposite of, say, Arne Maynard, this is the designer to look at. Fabulous photography by Steve Gunther.

Book cover of Wonderlands: British Garden Designers at Home by Clare Coulson, showing a lush garden with clipped yew hedges, roses and a green lawn.

A behind-the-scenes look at the private gardens of some of Britain's best-known garden designers, pairing Clare Coulson's writing with Éva Németh's photography to show how they plant for themselves.

Wonderlands

My last choice, published earlier this year, is Wonderlands. Written by Claire Coulson and photographed by Eva Nemeth, it is an exploration of the gardens of some well-known and not so well-known British garden designers. I was in two minds about including this book as mostly I feel deep seated envy when I look at this book. Included are the gardens of Tom Stuart-Smith and Arne Maynard. Interestingly, few of these designers admit to having any plans for their own gardens. They’ve taken a more experimental and leisurely approach, unpressured by a deadline or a budget or a client brief. Even so, there are deep echoes of their professional work in their own gardens.

Previous
Previous

Snowdrops at Welford Park

Next
Next

The joy of allotmenteering