Garden splendour and birds of a feather

Susanne Wiborg’s garden is a heavenly place, so take a seat as you read: a wealth of knowledge and pure pleasure are rarely communicated so effortlessly. We begin in the springtime and the garden is glorious with golden marsh marigold; snake’s head fritillary strikes a pose in antique rose, purple or deep violet, and the bluest blue belongs to the forget-me-nots. Breathe in high summer and the heady scent of sweetbrier or eglantine and relish late summer as filigree meadow rue immerses the garden in a sea of blue. The real stars of this book, however, are feathered: the hens who pick their way among the blossoms are clever, comical and exceedingly social animals. As Susanne Wiborg herself notes: “As I watch the hens, it strikes me that there many variations of human folly, but keeping chickens – and being “garden mad” – has to be one of the most pleasurable.” What more can you ask!