The Thin Line

'Intruders Keep Out'. Every home could post a severe warning at its entrance. I'm weeding the front borders of this ancient farmhouse where wild Valerian spills onto the gravel and meshes with tough grass and bramble.

Wearing the owner's gardening gloves, wielding her secateurs, I hack back enthusiastically. Until I'm struck by a deep sense of intrusion. "Is this what she wants?" I ask myself and tread the fine line from helpful to intrusion.

Stepping back to her seat beneath the vine, I sense my job is to cut out damage while keeping the beauty of gentle leaves and deep pink flower heads that frame the doorway to the house.

As temporary custodian of the space, I take the gardener's Hippocratic oath, promising to leave the garden in good health, treat it with respect and encourage it to thrive for years to come.