After a blooming success in 2020, this summer’s gardening disaster has proved I am no Monty Don

Confronted by bad weather and an army of slugs, Will Gore’s hopes for a bountiful harvest have been dashed

Seedlings that did emerge seemed punier than last year (Getty/iStockphoto)

A year ago, I was riding high. During the first Covid lockdown, amidst home-schooling tantrums and bog roll anxiety, my garden became my salvation. And by August, the hard work had paid off: flowers bloomed; tomatoes were ripening; we had a glut of beans and courgettes; various salad leaves kept on giving; and we were even harvesting homegrown sweetcorn for the first time. I began to fancy myself as a youthful(ish) Monty Don, and wondered where I might buy some braces to hold up my outdoor work trousers.

With plant life abundant, fauna followed suit. Bees and hoverflies of many varieties hummed their way from wild geranium and apple blossom to marjoram and fuchsia. Birds arrived in greater numbers than ever before: I marvelled at twittering long-tailed tits, was thrilled by a lone green woodpecker, and had a shock when a red kite landed in a tree just outside the window. Taking our cue from Springwatch, we dug out a teeny wildlife pond in a previously dull patch by the front door and watched in awe as frogs made it their home.

So successful were my gardening achievements that I began to consider a complete career change. If Kim Wilde could do it, why not me? And after all, having done teenage work experience as a park ranger, it would really just be a case of coming full circle.