We all have walls*

I pass on some rather queenly advice

in an article by this name*,

from Vita Sackville-West to the readers 

of the Observer newspaper in the 1940s and 50s.

Often I hear people say,

'How lucky you are to have these old walls;

(at Sissinghurst)

you can grow anything against them',

and then when I point out that every house 

means at least four walls -north, south, east, and west -

they say, 'I never thought of that.'

Against the north and west sides you can grow

magnolias or camellias;

on the east side, which catches the morning sun,

you can grow practically any of the

hardy shrubs or climbers, from the beautiful

ornamental quinces, commonly, though incorrectly called

japonicas (the right name is chaenomeles),

to the more robust varieties of ceanothus,

powdery blue, or a blue fringing on purple;

on the south side the choice is even larger -

a vine, for instance, will soon cover a wide high space,

and in a reasonable summer will ripen its bunches

of small sweet grapes (I recommend Royal Muscadine,

if you can get it), or, if you want a purely decorative effect,

the fast growing Solanum crispum will reach to the

eaves of the house and will flower in deep mauve

for at least two months in early summer.

*It is the 'at least four walls' that amuses me.
She seems not to be able to conceive of anyone
living in a house that it not detached.

Even today you can hear certain of our TV gardeners earnestly

consoling the viewers that even if they don't have a garden,

they can always grow some herbs on a windowsill.

This, as they stagger up the garden path 

with a wheelbarrow load of basil

ready to make a year's supply of pesto.

Some people's walls are higher than others'.