I mentioned shapes in my last column and want to stress how very important variety is, and the juxtaposition of that variety. Look at plants, shrubs and trees more intensely; ignore the color of the flowers for the moment, and view the size and color of leaf, the spread of any branches, the shape of the bush. Is this plant thorny? Is that one feathery? Will that one over there clump beautifully to fill in a space?

And color: most plants have green leaves, but are they lime, emerald or dark forest green? There are many with variegated green and white, which helps to break up the monotony of ‘just green,’ they also tone down hot colors and bring harmony to a symphony of hues.

I wandered around my own garden this morning to think about this and saw the soft, silvery grey of the artemisia, billowing alongside the thorny, dark wine of the berberis, in front of a mass of pale yellow broom, sidling up to a shower of snowy spiraea, and all fronted by a carpet of deep blue pansies… this is what color is all about. It is also about shapes and textures: the artemisia is a large, soft cushion of feathery fronds; the berberis, dense with hundreds of tiny leaves; the broom has tall, spiky green leaves, and the spiraea bows and dips gracefully with its corymbs of tiny white flowers – well named Bridal Wreath. And the pansies? Well, of course, velvety, with a hundred eyes peering in all directions.

I don’t agree with placing all the tall plants at the back, then having a row of medium-sized, with low plants in front. It reminds me of a theatre audience. Rather, I would plant a stand of something tall and structural to one side at the rear, then group something knee-high in front with a waist-high plant right next to it and blanket the other side with a medium-sized plant which spreads around the feet of all. Repeating this broken-tiered effect will give the garden a look of greater density, and far more interest.

Don’t forget ornamental grasses: these come in many colors, shapes and sounds. The longer, fluffier ones move in the wind, make a soft, caressing sound, and are wonderful to stroke. The sturdier ones seem to be beloved of dragonflies as they balance on the tip and dry their wings while the shorter varieties bunch together for fellowship comfort and give a surprisingly solid link to other images you might select.

Then, there are berries - such a range of purple, blue, red, pink, orange, green, white and black. They grow separately or hang in clusters; they appear at different times of the year so that the four seasons are covered, and make lovely vase arrangements on their own. Many years ago, I had a round fish bowl into which I would plunge the heads of flowers or berries. This magnified them and tiny bubbles clung to their stems and heads. Set on a shelf in front of a window, I found the berries were equally as lovely as the flowers. A warning, though, do not add leaves underwater; they will turn green and slimy very quickly and will pollute their environment.

Mingling these components makes gardening far more interesting, infinitely more challenging, and, therefore, much more fun. Start viewing it all from a different perspective and create a dream. Read all you can and practice using the botanical names because the species shown will identify much about the plant: its color, or growing characteristics, or whether it prefers soggy ground – indications like that. Plants are usually listed under their botanical names in the more informational books with the genus listed first, then the species, and then the variety. I shall be writing much more about this in later columns. However, their common names can invariably be found in the index, e.g. “Willow” - see “Salix”.