Let the garden go to seed? Gladly - Telegraph.co.uk

We also have our share of wildlife. Sparrows, tits, goldfinches and robins visit our bird feeder, and the other day I spotted my first greenfinch. As I write, I see bees industriously mining our fragrant roses and teucrium. We get, too, the occasional glimpse of nature red in tooth and claw, as a sparrowhawk perches on a branch to devour its prey.

Certainly, the urban foxes regard our plot as a nostalgic reminder of the bucolic spaces that their ancestors inhabited. They prowl watchfully along the path, while squashed vegetation beneath the lilac tree indicates that one or two have chosen to spend a quiet night there away from the family.

So I am confident that our own little patch of green would gain the approval of the RSPB, even if our principal motivation is idleness rather than idealism. Yet at the same time I confess that, like many barely adequate hoe-wielders, I enjoy seeing the kind of well-ordered and formally structured garden that is now judged to be environmentally incorrect.

Garden-visiting is increasingly popular, spearheaded by the admirable National Gardens Scheme, through which nearly 4,000 dedicated gardeners allow us to tramp over their private space for one or two days a year, the proceeds going to charity. I think we would feel short-changed if we had to wade through thigh-high grass to see their spectacular blooms peeking out through a jungle of dandelions, nettles and bindweed.

Call us hypocrites, but when we visit such places we want evidence of the effort and commitment that we notably fail to display ourselves. That is why we jostle to see the immaculate show gardens at Chelsea and other major flower shows. When the TV guru Monty Don declares that we should "not strive after tidiness", we gladly accept the advice, but admire the works of those who ignore it.

Skimming through the Yellow Book, the list of gardens open under the scheme, I notice that nearly all the photographs include man-made features such as paths and fountains. Almost the only hint of the natural world is a charming white cow peering through a fence in Shropshire.

Visiting a well-tended garden is a delight, and in any case, wildlife itself does not always take kindly to attempts to provide it with havens.

A few weeks ago, I read the ironic tale of volunteers at a Wiltshire nature reserve who put much effort into building nesting boxes for blue tits, only to discover that they preferred to make their home in the box of bags provided for pooper-scooping dog owners. And on my allotment, I discovered that a blackbird has chosen to nest in a plastic bag full of odd bits of string in my tumbledown shed.

The moral is that nature will usually take its course despite what we humans do to encourage or deter it. But I am grateful to the RSPB for giving me yet another excuse to postpone the weeding.