ate last summer, I inspected my friend's garden in-between heavy showers. She's been gardening this tucked-away oasis for more than 40 years now, and it is heavenly: established, yes, but unprecious and kindly worn-in, like a favourite armchair. In the dying days of August it was a riot of plume poppies and scarlet crocosmias, speared through with grasses. As I admired it, she pointed out how certain varieties
