Visiting the gardens at Hestercombe was such a revelatory experience I’ve been lost to know how to present it in words and images. It was the first of three celebrated gardens I visited during three days I spent in the West Country at the beginning of May. I’ve ‘done’ gardens before now but I’ve never truly engaged with them, or understood them in any way at all. I’ve never had my own garden, as my partners have always owned these spaces, and I suppose I’ve never staked a claim and said I’d like to get involved. But then I didn’t engage with the music of Beethoven properly until I was in my mid 40s. I didn’t begin to understand the textile world until 2 years ago, and now I’ve been knocked sideways by what I’ve begun to understand a garden can represent.