I have been a little quiet here for the past few weeks. In part this is because life can get in the way and indeed, some fairly large chunks of my time have been consumed by matters unrelated to gardening. And sometimes I think I have nothing worth saying that I have not said before. But I am back again.
I dropped in yesterday to Te Henui cemetery yesterday, not to pay respects to the dead but to revel in the flowers. It was a while since I had last visited. On a day with bright sunlight and a strong, blustery wind, it was distinctly less than ideal conditions for photographs but the graveyard never disappoints.
The catalyst to visit came in part from being sent a newsletter written by Michael McCoy who had visited it in the pouring rain a week earlier. McCoy is not a name that is well known in this country and when he came here the following day, I wished I had googled him before he arrived because he certainly has a much higher profile elsewhere – particularly in Australia – and an impressive résumé to match. Garden designer, writer of books, TV writer and host and leader of masterclass tours, he has covered his ground internationally and in an extended conversation with him, we found so much common ground that I was both inspired and affirmed.
Alas, his newsletter to subscribers (like my Canberra daughter who forwarded it to me) does not appear to be posted to his main website (https://thegardenist.com.au/) and I can’t find it on line to add the link so I can not share it in full. Suffice to say, his joy in the experience of visiting the cemetery made me proud to be a local and to have a loose connection to some of the volunteers who turn this place of death and often long-forgotten memories into a place that celebrates life with colour and light. His concluding sentences are:
“But what I’m forever chasing, and experience with joyous regularity, are those magical moments when conscious enjoyment turns to inexplicable enchantment.
I never imagined it could happen in a cemetery. In the pouring rain.”
Just those lines have started me thinking about those magical moments I have experienced in other people’s gardens in this country, in other parts of the world and, indeed, in our own garden. There is a good thought to carry me through the day. But in the meantime, I will leave you with some (mostly) joyous moments from amongst the tombstones. I still think of this graveyard as the grown-ups version of miniature gardens and sand saucers that so many of us made in our childhoods and that adds to its charm.
Tikorangi The Jury Garden 
“Grown-ups’ sand saucers…” Yes!
It is a mostly a collection of small, grave-sized gardens that stand alone – although in a few places the plantings may extend across more than one grave – that are individually tailored to the existing architecture of trees, tomb stones, old fences and paved pads rather than any attempt to gain a unified ‘landscaped’ approach. So yes, grown-up miniature gardens.
We made our visit here exactly three years ago whilst on a road trip through the Forgotten Highway. On such trips we quite often visit old cemeteries where so much history is to be found, but even after putting it high on our must see list, nothing could have prepared us for the beauty we found. It’s simplicity seemed a fitting, respectful memorial to the long departed. A truly, wonderful achievement by It’s volunteers.
I was thrilled with Michael’s newsletter from Te Henui cemetery, maybe you suggested he visit. It has been an ongoing inspiration for me with a volunteer project at an old cemetery, Boroondara, in Melbourne we started a few years before I visited Te Henui in 2017. I’m full of admiration of the Te Henui volunteers who continue to maintain such an incredibly high standard of gardening, hats off to everyone involved!!
It wasn’t me who suggested it to Michael but I am so glad he liked it. And his newsletter was hugely welcomed by the volunteers to whom I forwarded it. Is Booroondara the enormous cemetery I have passed on a tram – relatively close to the city? If so, you have a massive area to work in. Hats off to you, too, for your volunteer work creating a gift for the general public.
I will never forget the first time I visited Te Henui cemetery & was simply awestruct at the beauty of it. Even writing this brings a tear of remembering. 🥲
And that was the response Michael McCoy felt which is why he wrote about it in such glowing terms. I am in awe of the people who give their time and skills to make such a public place special for total strangers.
One of my favourite places to visit in Taranaki.
Thanks for taking us back there Abbie – we saw it in Spring a few years ago while in New Plymouth. It reminded me of a Cemetery in Salzburg. Austria where every grave is a carefully tended garden. Te Henui should be an inspiration to other historic cemeteries for it’s beautiful gardens. It’s volunteers do a great job.
A lovely story Abbie – not only about plants and gardens, but also about the human condition, life and the peacefulness of death which may not be such a bad option after all!!
Thanks, Robyn. I always chuckle when I see it written up using words like tranquil and peaceful. It is way too vibrant to ever be tranquil. Rather, it is a celebration of colour and life in the face of death.