What is a Garden? For me, it is a refuge, a private world that sparks joy, wonder, and imagination. Look at the garden in your mind. Now look closer. Each flower is a stage, each insect has an entire story of which, if we are lucky, we may see a page of. From the humble bumblebee carefully choosing the perfect drink, much like a party guest negotiating a buffet, – selecting only the most appealing, filling, and the easiest to eat canapes – to the ground beetle, a hunter, resolutely running across open ground in search for cover until nighttime. Ours began as a blank slate and is now evolving into something that serves both us and the creatures who share it.
When we first moved in, the garden was simply lawn, patio, and a few raised planters, although happily with a mature chestnut tree. A quick sketch soon became a plan: a herb patch, cottage-style borders, a pond, fruit trees, a wild corner, log pile, water butts, and compost heap. Not everything shouted “wildlife garden,” but every decision carried the same question: how can this help rather than harm? Over time, those choices have helped transform the space into a welcoming place for birds, insects, amphibians, and us!
The pond was always the dream. My grandmother had a beautiful pond I used to sit beside for hours as a child, watching pond skaters, snails, and water boatmen. That memory drove my determination to create something similar. Wildlife doesn’t need a pond to be beautiful, edged with stone and with moving water. Whilst we are making sure the pond can be used by wildlife (gentle sloping sides, no fish, choosing plants that suit native creatures e.g. ones that newts could use to lay their eggs on), the elaborate design was solely for our own pleasure.
The ideal spot was the back corner where water naturally runs off the slope—but unfortunately, that’s where the raised planters sat. These had to go. Cue heavy digging, dismantling, and my mum arriving, chainsaw in hand, to tackle the industrially fixed wood. The salvaged timber became a retaining wall, reshaping the lawn into graceful curves and creating a flower bed. Suddenly the space felt more natural, and, with family help, we had the perfect place for our pond.
Even half-finished, the pond has already proven invaluable. During the dry spring and summer, it held water without topping up, attracting birds, insects, and even deer, leaving tracks in the soil. Small birds were hesitant at the pond’s edge, so we placed saucers of water around the garden—instant favourites of the robin and blue tits. Even a simple dish of water, cleaned regularly, can really help.
Around the pond, we replanted shrubs rescued from the planters to link with the hedge beyond the fence, giving birds more cover and safe routes to the water. It worked—almost immediately sparrows appeared, leading to the hilarious spectacle of the sparrow family taking dust baths. They all roll and tumble down the soil bank, flapping and fluffing to coat their feathers—often squabbling over the best spots. It makes us laugh, but is also practical: dust bathing helps birds maintain their feathers and stay healthy. The exposed soil benefits solitary bees too. Needless to say, we are now leaving this patch bare.
The borders have been just as rewarding. Liam dreamed of a colourful cottage-style border, full of bright blooms. Being red-green colour blind, he especially loves vivid yellows, so we chose flowers that appeal to him but also benefit pollinators: simple, open blooms rich in nectar. Pesticides and herbicides are banned in our garden, so the plants grow as naturally as possible and the creatures that visit them are safe.
The wildlife has already responded. One evening we found a toad nestled among the flower stems. Another day I discovered an entire drama unfolding on the cosmos: aphids had taken over, ladybirds moved in, and ants began farming the aphids for their sugary secretions. I watched as the ants fended off a ladybird to protect their flock. To my surprise, the cosmos thrived despite the tiny battle raging on it, proving that sometimes stepping back is the best intervention. The ecosystem, left to itself, found balance. Next year, we’re hoping to grow sunflowers and echinacea that can provide seeds for the birds during autumn.
As a child, I dreamed of a sensory garden with plants to stroke, smell, and marvel at. Budget constraints and my time at Wild Oxfordshire reshaped that vision into something just as beautiful: a pollinator-friendly border. Watching butterflies, bees, and moths flock to the space has been pure joy.
The goal now is to develop this into my sensory garden. Luckily, many plant species tick all the boxes—like marjoram and rosemary, loved by bees and me alike. And who can resist the sparkling wand-like imagery of alliums? Or the softness of mullein. Both of which are loved by insects. Best part? This style of flowerbed is wonderfully low maintenance. If you're after a bee-friendly border, Wild Oxfordshire’s plant list is a great place to start. It’s designed for year-round interest with minimal fuss. Nature wins, and so do we.
Then there’s the lawn—the subject of some debate. I love a wild tapestry of clover, daisies, and dandelions, while Liam prefers the traditional “clean” look. With the lawn too small to divide, we compromised by sowing a meadow mix along the side of the house, linking to nearby habitats and creating a corridor for insects and amphibians. In the beds, I’ve allowed native species to self-seed, or when appropriate have moved them to where they fit best.
Liam has since suggested crocuses in part of the lawn, which bloom in late winter before the mowing season. Whilst the lawn isn’t what I had envisioned, all of these things mean that pollinators can still thrive in our garden. We’ve had so many different species of bee and hoverfly in the flower beds that I’ve lost count.
If there’s one lesson this garden has taught me, it’s that there’s no single “right” way to garden for wildlife. You don’t need to copy a blueprint or tick every box. It’s about making thoughtful choices—whether that’s digging a pond, planting pollinator-friendly flowers, leaving bare soil, or simply setting out a dish of water. Each action, however small, creates space for another creature.
A garden isn’t just ours. This world we create becomes more than something we find pretty. Whether we want it to or not, it becomes a home for many and now, with more and more species relying on our gardens for survival, our gardens are vital for nature’s recovery. If you want to help wildlife in your garden, either in general or for a particular species, you can find a plethora of resources here in our carefully curated compendium.
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