10 Years – GardenRant

On the 11^th of November 2014, a cold but dry day, I started the engine of my little van and drove to work. This time was different.

I’d just been made redundant and this was the start of my new life as a freelance gardener. It was an awkward start; I’m a natural gardener, not a natural businessman, and venturing out on my own was incredibly challenging. I must have done something right to have reached my tenth anniversary.

I’ve learnt a few things over the years.

People

I’m a fairly amiable sort of person but it’s plants that are my passion.

I’ve met some absolutely wonderful people. My work has made a real difference for them; I’ve been proud of my achievements.

Some people have been awful. Working for people at their homes, away from the rest of the world, can be rather eye-opening. Nice people are wonderful at home, but others can prove rather… unusual. Difficult even. Some people fail the ‘vibe check’ (a phrase I heard from a younger gardener recently) at the initial meeting; excuses were made and I didn’t go back. At other times people start off fine and become increasingly peculiar as time passes. Sometimes ‘peculiar’ becomes sadistic. And of course sometimes things just don’t work out.

I’m lucky that I’m currently working for great people. I don’t know whether it’s luck as such, or whether I’ve just become a better judge of character.

Perception

Gardening is not well regarded as a career choice. I’ve given up hoping for a time when gardeners are recognised for their abilities and contribution to society.

However I find it disappointing that there’s so much division within British horticulture. It seems as though there are those who cannot, or more pointedly don’t want to, work together as one. They would rather form factions to exclude or even demean others. I don’t buy into the culture, and this has made me an easy target for some particularly unpleasant individuals over the years.

The perception of freelance gardeners is particularly poor. I’m sure we’ve all heard stories about freelance gardeners doing bad or shoddy work. Bad news travels fast and fuels the perception that any gardener not attached to a specific gardener is rogue. Good work goes unnoticed; nobody really notices the work of good gardeners, just when things all go horribly wrong.

A freelance gardener could wave a magic wand and solve all the world’s problems but would still be regarded with suspicion, even by other professionals. I’ve always known there are issues but had grossly underestimated how divided the wider horticulture industry was.

Gardens

The biggest lesson for me has been just how important gardens can be to people.

Some people have gardens because they came with the house they bought, while others like to keep neighbours at a distance. For some the garden is a vitally important space, a place of comfort away from the world.

Passive indifference is the most challenging thing to deal with, followed immediately by people who just don’t know what they want. Both essentially come down to the same thing, choking decision making and stifling progress.

Some clients know every flower and leaf in their garden as well as I do. These are the people who are great to work for; there’s a free flow of ideas and it’s possible to make a real difference for them.

I parted company with someone recently who had an unhealthy relationship with their garden. Far from being a place of joy, this client saw the garden as a place of toil, discomfort or even misery. Initially I thought I was seeing true passion but it wasn’t; there was something strange, slightly sinister about it all. People with passion for gardens enjoy their gardens, and are not enslaved by them.

Would I Recommend Freelance Gardening To Others?

You get to see some truly wonderful places and meet some absolutely wonderful people.

You can also meet some very odd people too, and there are times when the nature of the job is particularly challenging. You must work from the heat of summer to the cold of winter, from dust dry to pouring rain. If you don’t work you don’t get paid. Life as a freelance gardener can be incredibly isolating. Bad attitudes from the public can get to you, although the same from your industry colleagues can somehow feel much worse. Some people are just jerks.

Being a freelance gardener isn’t just about doing a job, it’s about making a difference. Yes you need to earn money, but people hire gardeners for different reasons. Some just can’t be bothered to maintain a garden (fair enough), while others have other demands on their time. In some cases you’re looking after gardens for people who can’t look after them any more, maybe through old age or poor health. It doesn’t matter why you’re there, only that you are.

Being freelance doesn’t mean you get to work for yourself. You work for clients, you work to pay the bills, then you work for yourself. I can be a very lonely way to work; sometimes you’re on your own for weeks at a time and you’ve got to be OK with that. I’m not saying it’s better to work in a garden with a team, and I can tell you some tales of terrible A-hole employers that will make you seethe with rage, but loneliness at work can creep up on you.

It’s not a life for everyone but some of us seem to manage it. 10 years in and I’m still racked with self doubt, but I can at least say that I’ve done reasonably well. Sometimes things don’t go to plan. That’s just life.

I’m also involved with plant trialling for the Royal Horticultural Society, I pick up skills and meet other gardeners thanks to the Cornwall Professional Gardeners Group, and I’m currently proud to be working with the International Conifer Conservation Programme to find safe homes for vulnerable and endangered species. This is work I would never have been allowed to do if I’d stayed with my former employer.

The Future

Things could be better for me- they could for us all- but I don’t plan to give up.

I don’t know what the next decade will bring; I hope that among the inevitable challenges there will be opportunities. There are things that I do for my own interest now that could take me in exciting new directions.

But fundamentally as I pursue new opportunities I want to remain part of the horticultural community, despite its flaws. I’m proud to be a gardener, and to be the latest of many generations of gardeners who have worked to make the world that bit little bit nicer. I feel a sense of shared history as I stand in old gardens, as though I belong there as the gardeners who went before me did.

My achievements aren’t measured in awards and accolades but in trees planted and flowers grown. It’s not a bad way to live, in daily contact with soil and the wonders of the garden.

Working in an office just wouldn’t be right for me. Ever.