As June turns to July, the best of the summer months are upon us for those living in the northern hemisphere. For me, this is the best time for me to be involved in my most guiltiest of pleasures. It is something that for the first time I am not afraid to admit nor am I concerned about the potential malicious mockery that may ensue once this confession is in cyberspace. My guiltiest pleasure is none other than…gardening.

I’ve finally come out of the closet and I am not the least bit bothered by the fact that this is a pastime generally indulged in by the aging members of our society. To be quite frank, this is not something that I have been doing for a long time. It’s something I took more of an interest in when I escaped the chaos of London to the cultural recluse of Bath in late 2008. It started off with a simple chrysanthemum plant in my room by the window sill. I didn’t even want it in the first place. It was an unloved child put up for adoption and forced into the hands of an unsuspecting foster carer. Day by day, I dutifully gave it some water in the morning and gave it adequate amount of sunlight and slowly but surely, the shoots began to sprout. It was a lengthy laborious process which I guess, unknown to me at the time, was a long-term investment in happiness. Leaves began to shoot some time later, and finally the chrysanthemums bloomed into life. It was a triumph of sorts, a feeling of accomplishment soon followed.

Yet what struck me most, was the beauty of it. It’s pretty pattern, the time and the effort taken to get that stage, and unlike the more popular flowers like roses and sunflowers with their ostentatious displays of arrogance and impudence, the humble chrysanthemum stood with pride and honour. I agree gardening is not to everyone’s liking and it is not like I am fanatical about it to the extent that I may have posters of David Attenborough on my bedroom walls, or that I eagerly await the Chelsea Flower Show as keenly as I wait for the start of the Premier League season. For me, gardening is more therapeutic than anything else. It helps you unwind, it gives a feeling of oneness with the earth (I promised myself I would avoid hippy-talk but I couldn’t help myself), but most importantly the sheer beauty of the produce is striking. So why not go into your local garden centre and pick up some Marigolds and Busy Lizzies, some strawberry plants, and a fuchsia plant or two. Plant them in the back garden, water them regularly, and enjoy the journey.

“People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have the things about us.”- Iris Murdoch