DURING our hunt for a house in the country, we visited one beautiful property with a fine view of the Eildon hills. A less lovely prospect was the garden. Years of labouring to keep the shrubberies, trees and lawns in shape had resulted in a compost heap so enormous you could have skied down it. I was baffled that anyone could have let things get so out of hand. Now, with a garden of my own – one-third the size – I am beginning to understand.
When we moved, in the depths of winter, the plant life was biding its time. Only as spring arrived did it rear its head, put forth shoots, and show what it was capable of. In this agriculturally rich part of the world, that included a flora britannica of weeds. Returning home from a two-week absence, we found our small patch had been transformed in the Serengeti, the grasses and thistles so high my husband swears he saw a lioness with her cubs under the apple trees.
- In pictures: Scotland's (brief) history of sizzling summers
For the next few weeks, while I daintily picked out weeds at the front, he attacked the back. It was as if he was scything a path through the Panamanian jungle in search of the Darien Scheme. Quickly, the refuse bags multiplied. Stuffed not just with weeds as tall as us, but with roots and stumps of long-gone trees, they were stacked like bales of straw, buttressing the house as if we’d heard a hurricane was on the way.
It was time to call the council to ask when they collect garden refuse. Politely, they said that they don’t. Our options were either to add to the three overflowing compost bins we had inherited or make our way to the local recycling centre. Neighbours with a 4x4 told us they can fit 17 bags a time into their car. Ours holds little more than a wheelbarrow, and goes at roughly the same speed.
Borders Regional Council, I have since discovered, is not alone in axing its garden waste collection. Across the UK, almost half of councils no longer offer a brown bin service, or if they do, they charge for it. If you live in Dundee, you can afford to let your acre run riot; East Lothian and Edinburgh are introducing a £25 fee for a regular uplift of leaves and weeds; in the Highlands there is a paid-for service, but only in certain areas. Across the country a host of different rules apply.
Councils who have cut gardeners loose urge them to start composting. Yet while that’s undoubtedly best, for those such as the owners of the vegetal ski-slope, unless you have a large vegetable plot, often you produce far more than can be mulched.
Nor are compost bins problem-free. “They breed rats,” says a friend, who lives in the city. That’s never been my experience, but in urban areas it is more of a risk than in the country, where attics and wainscots seem to be rodents’ preferred choice for warmth.
As councils balance their books, they have to make cuts. That I understand. But so too do gardeners – and not just cuts: snips and prunings, sawings and choppings, mowings, strimmings, forkings and diggings. All of that produces piles of vegetation. Yet not everyone has a car, or the welly to fill a boot with bulging bags.
As a result of council decisions, a garden has become increasingly costly. It’s a personal decision about how much to spend on plants, seeds and tools, but to maintain even the most simple plot is now, in some districts, a budgeting issue. What makes councils’ reduction of the brown bin service troubling is that for many householders it is their favourite occupation – for some a veritable passion. A love of gardens is embedded in the national soul, deep as an old oak’s roots. Visitors come from across the world to see picturesque villages, where roses and clematis grow in profusion, an art show for everyone to enjoy; or to marvel at horticultural gems such as Sissinghurst, or Inverewe. It’s safe to say that where there are Brits, there are flowers and strawberry beds and trees.
A population blessed with green fingers is vital to the appearance of town and country. Even more important, however, are the indisputable benefits to health and well-being. So in light of all this, are council cutbacks justified? For the hale and hearty, in possession of a car, there is little issue. Likewise, those who can afford to pay for a gardener. But for the elderly retired on limited incomes, it seems unfair to turn what was once a source of pleasure and pride into a pain.
- In pictures: Scotland's (brief) history of sizzling summers
In those areas where the service has been axed it would be better to take a longer perspective and offer a regular, free, all-year garden waste collection to those above a certain age – 65, say, or 70 – or to those who don’t have a car. The benefits will be invisible, but profound: healthier, happier and more productive lives. Who knew the humble brown bin could do all that?
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