The gold medal winning M&G Garden on Chelsea Main Avenue, designed by Charlotte Harris and Hugo Bugg, is an inspirational urban pocket park, where a disused city space has been transformed into a soft and soothing human oasis and wildlife haven. Flowing through the gorgeous planting palette of subtle green, gold, and coppery autumnal tones, repurposed metal pipework sculpture rises, turns, bends, and falls rhythmically around the space, echoing an industrial past that is now elegantly subsumed into the beauty of the natural world. The black metal glints with burnished hues, complementing rich metallic highlights in the planting scheme. A canopy of sea buckthorn rises like a slivery cloud of steam, as though from a forgotten factory chimney. In September sunlight, grass seed heads shine and shimmer, as berries and hips glow like embers from a furnace. Overall the sense is of a calming, secluded enclave from the busy world beyond: a space where thoughts can drift aimlessly over white clouds of milk parsley and baneberry, hands can be run through grasses, and the honey scent of mahonia hangs gently in the air. This is a garden filled with tangible hope and promise, offering a way to heal and rejuvenate the city’s soul, one small space at a time.
And the garden suggests that while our own active role in brownfield rejuvenation is vital, nature had already begun reclaiming this patch of land, even before human restoration commenced. Glossy ground-ivy seems to have started carpeting the floor, sending up triumphant starbursts of small green umbels; the metal pipework has already begun to corrode away, battered by the elements, seemingly impermanent against the great forces of the natural world.
On a smaller scale, this process of natural rejuvenation can be observed and encouraged in the sterile spaces found in city and suburban gardens everywhere: by welcoming weeds to the gaps between patio paving slabs, along the edge of garden pathways, or even round the concrete step to the front door, the pocket park philosophy can be applied to our own homes. Not to the extent of hindering clear and safe human passage, of course - you don’t want a buddleia blocking-off your entrance way – but by accommodating nature’s advancements into barren territory, albeit where sensible and practicable, there are nothing but benefits to be enjoyed. In our own garden, weeds and self-seeders have gleefully invaded the once-pristine paving. Left to establish ground-level ecosystems, the wilder walkways now support a host of wildlife.
From late Spring, a miniature carpet of Creeping Wood Sorrel (Oxalis corniculata var. atropurpurea) brightens the brick path with buttercup stars. Gravity-defying seedpods mature vertically, rocketing their load several feet into the air with audibly explosive force on a hot day. Sparrows can’t resist the dispersal of tiny, reddish-brown treats.
Pansy-pretty dog violets (Viola riviniana) brighten gloomy corners, and soften hard boundaries, their heart shaped leaves tumbling along paving joints and spilling from the edges of pots where they quietly take up residence beneath other plants. Violet seeds provide rich nutrition for ants, our army of tireless fertilisers and soil-conditioners. In turn, the ants attract unexpected birdlife to the garden, like the long-distance female wheatear returning from winter in Africa, who flew down to refuel on ants before continuing her journey north.
Delicious scent is another benefit of insect-attracting paving plants. Crushed underfoot, the self-seeded roman camomile (Chamaemelum nobile) and wild thyme (Thymus serpyllum) release heady fragrance on hot days, adding to a tapestry of bee-friendly summer colour. Other self-seeders are carefully stepped around, like the striking silver-striped dead nettle (Lamium maculatum) with showy whorls of pink flowers that are perfect for long-tongued pollinators.
Lawn daisies (Bellis perennis) and Mexican daisies aka Mexican fleabane (Erigeron karvinskianus) bloom cheerfully between bricks from spring through summer, attracting insect pollinators and procreators alike. Vigorous Mexican daisies are given an occasional trimming back. A quick tidy up provides instant posies for informal indoor arrangements, and prompts renewed mass flowering.
Orange Welsh poppies (Meconopsis cambrica) cheerfully populate paving joints in sunny and shaded areas, their roots enjoying echoes of ancestral rocky hillsides. Poppy flowers are beloved by bees and hoverflies, while camera-shy pheasants find the seed irresistible in colder months (click here to view our video “Ten Reasons Why Orange Poppies are Perfect”).
Another mountainous native, the softly sprawling Dalmatian Bellflower (Campanula portenschlagiana), readily roots into paving and against walls. Bumble bees get busy in its violet trumpets, whilst frogs feast on slugs and snails in the shady lower layer of leaves.
The precious qualities of Rough-stalked Feather-Moss (Brachythecium rutabulum), spreading at the shadier edges of paving are easily overlooked. In late March, we watched a dunnock furtively harvesting moss from the path to line a hidden nest. We left her chicks to hatch and fledge in peace. Once grown and flown, we sought out their secret home: deep in a tangle of ivy and honeysuckle, twiggy outer scaffolding supported a rounded, mossy hollow, interwoven with animal hair and feathers. Humble moss had cradled and cosseted its precious inhabitants perfectly.
By allowing nature into the cracks and corners of sterile steps, paths, and patios, we can all create perfect, wildlife-friendly pocket parks in every urbanised space.