I was recently in Waterstones, (the book shop), browsing for the latest Monty Don book

Seeing his name instantly transported me back in time

Monty Don, of course, is the current presenter of Gardeners’ World, the long-running BBC institution first broadcast in 1968 and now in its 56th series

But for me, it’s never just been a TV programme

My dad worked as a soundman at the BBC and was involved with Gardeners’ World in the days of Percy Thrower and Geoff Hamilton

Those names alone carry a certain gravitas for anyone who grew up with the programme quietly shaping Sunday evenings

Growing up, my parents always bought houses with proper gardens

From our semi in Harrow, to detached homes in Upton Snodsbury and Peopleton, there was always space to grow things

Their current house in Pershore is no exception, though by then I’d already left home

Dad would come back from recording sessions buzzing with enthusiasm, full of ideas for what he wanted to do in the garden

The problem was time

His irregular working hours meant that while the passion was there, the commitment gardening demands often wasn’t possible

My mum, on the other hand, came from Evesham, often referred to as the garden of England, on the edge of the Cotswolds

Her father, my grandfather, was a market gardener

I think the rhythm of the seasons, the patience, and the instinct for growing things came naturally to her in a way it never quite did to my dad, the Londoner

Conclusion

Standing in a bookshop, holding a gardening book, I realised how much of our lives are shaped quietly in the background, by programmes on TV, by the work our parents did, and by where they came from

Gardening, for me, isn’t really about plants at all

It’s about memory, inheritance, and the roots we don’t always realise we’re putting down