Coffee in hand, dew underfoot, starlings chattering away. New blooms unveil their painted beauty, fronds unfurling, reaching towards the dappled light. The markings of a new day, a routine, a ritual. Bedding in the softness needed to work through the gravity of my daily modern life.
I was reading through Michelle’s piece on evening routine the other day, and as always, when you read good, thought-provoking writing, it inspires you to collect your own thoughts. I, too have struggled with the grasp of perfecting morning routines, 4.30am wake-ups, extortionately priced exercise classes. Non-fiction paragraphs over intensely tedious breakfasts. In turn, I’ve rejected routine, let hours fall away, only to just about peel myself from the duvet in order to make my first morning meeting.
The crux of my brain is that whilst it demands a sense of freedom, a lack of routine, it also struggles to thrive without one. Thankfully, after trying on all the productivity-based mornings that I would hope to be the opportune way to start my day, I have finally found the way that soothes and sparks creative energy within my mind.
This is where garden rounds come in. Unlike other routines, this wasn’t one born of inspired reading, media articles detailing the way to which I can unleash ultimate productivity. No, it was done by childish wonder. I let my joy lead the way, and it led me straight down into my garden one morning, and I have continued to do so every morning since.
Garden rounds are a simple concept for me, it’s a moment to check in with my garden but in turn, give myself a moment without pressure to breathe, make sense of my emotions and be present before the day sets course for busyness and screen-time.
It always starts with a coffee, by the time I get outside, I’ve usually been up for a while—I’ve learnt that for me, coffee after having already eaten helps anxious feelings stay at bay. I’d love for it to neatly be that garden rounds are exactly the length of drinking a coffee, it’s not. I mostly drink the entire thing upon inspection of the first section of the border. But, hey, I do carry the mug around for the rest of the journey at least.
For the most part it’s technology-free, apart from using my camera. Creation without intent is a fun, calming process for me. I take photos to document, to learn, to share with family, to remember how ridiculously ahead of the seasons my pocket of East Kent is. Pushing myself to not take photos, because others state I should enjoy technology-free time would be counterintuitive to me. I’m learning to trust my gut, to do what feels right for me. Not for performative purposes, so that I can meet the gold standards of peaceful routines.
Sometimes garden rounds is simply the act of observing, seeing what’s changed, and spending extra time in the areas that are in bloom. Other times it’s more interactive, seeing small ways in which I can enrich or nurture my garden. Stringing up the flailing sweet peas so they can focus their energy on blooming, potting on a seedling that’s grasping for more space, removing space-grabbing weeds (after thoroughly checking on my plant identification apps I’m not inadvertently removing seeds I’ve direct sown—my biggest fear).
What it always is, however, is intuitive. Deciding how garden rounds can best serve me that morning, without overthinking it. Just by being present, letting my eyes pull me around the garden seeking interest where it lies. Being surrounded by nature, no matter the size or, in my case, developed, is inherently a delicious way to start your day. Grounded in both physical and psychological benefits, it’s an antidote to the way we’ve been pushed into starting our mornings. It’s productivity sometimes, yes. But it’s productivity as it’s meant to be, slow, rooted in joy and without expectations.
I could be prescriptive and tell you how to do garden rounds, but where’s the joy in that? Garden rounds is personal, as our spaces are. It can be literal, a walk around. But perhaps you enjoy a smaller green space in the form of a courtyard or balcony. There’s no harm in garden rounds being just a place to enjoy a cup of tea, or morning journaling.
Perhaps it’s not gardening at all. Perhaps it’s finding a way to start your morning by listening to what truly serves you, what brings the right level of joy to your life. To reclaim a sense of childish joy, the type that sparks interest, creativity and pure happiness—that we so often neglect.
Hopefully, you enjoyed this post, if you did I would be eternally grateful if you would share/restack so I can reach more people like you ♥️
Have a lovely day, Allie ☁︎
Also, you can find me on other parts of the internet: IG, TikTok.
Aw this post was really lovely! Loved the entry into the piece as well, felt completely fresh and dreamy.
My garden rounds are usually in the evening, just before bed. It's so hot where we live that I like to get out and tend to our plants closer to 8:30 p.m. just before the sun starts to set.