Petersham Sundays

A place of beauty, an emporium of goods, a celebration of the seasons.

Petersham Nurseries, Richmond

In spite of the rather unpromising February weather, I was longing to get back here, to Petersham Nurseries. I was toying with the idea of calling this notebook entry “Petersham Sundaes,” for it is as much a spring, pastel, ice-cream coloured feast for the eyes as it is a tour de force of delicious seasonal food for the stomach.

Whilst *Tom headed to Twickenham on Sunday, I made a beeline for Petersham. Did I tell you that I lived in Richmond for most of my 20’s? It always feels surreal coming back here. I find myself wondering what my younger self would think of where I am now.
(She/I would be incredulous !) Plus, I wonder if I can still recall the best spots to park and the secret cut through’s and shortcuts I once took.

I have a ridiculously soft spot for the no. 65 bus, that once upon a time used to shuttle me between Richmond and Kingston, via Petersham and Ham Common. I spent hours on the upper deck gazing over walls into secret worlds. Walled gardens, exquisitely kept, full of glorious magnolias, ancient wisterias, perfect dining nooks. All beyond my reach, fairy tale almost, in as much that I would never be numbered among those select few, who would be lucky enough to enter into those inner sanctums. Not so Petersham Nursery though! This is a little paradise plot I can return to, and feel that same sense of magic once again.

No restaurant reservation for me this time, the Tea House will serve me very well. Dining here is always a delicious treat and, if like me, you happen to be alone, the people watching opportunities are also marvelous. Those in the restaurant can’t help but beam with the joy of eating beneath fairy lights and jasmine tendrils. Inside the hub-bub of the Tea House, there are beautifully old patinated garden chairs, urns spill over with bulbs, hellebores and heart shaped trails of ivy. Meanwhile, I eat outdoors, under the pergola next to the flower filled fountain and watch a robin watching me before I head inside…

I think Karen Blixen would approve of all the crystal here, it feels gentler somehow, displayed as it is, inside a greenhouse with a mud floor. Beautiful vignettes are pulled together, distressed dressers, shutters and doors become the backdrop for groups of beautiful things. The shop’s international buying links, and dazzling array of beautiful things can be attributed to Lara Boglione, she has a wonderful creative vision.

Orchids are so perfect at this time of year, they evoke the exotic, warmer climes, far flung tropical places we might dream of visiting. The range of colours and varieties is exciting, there is something that will suit every interior. I am reminded of Amsterdam in February. Whilst it was far too early for bulbs, it seemed to me last time I was there, that every window had an artfully grouped display of orchids in the window. It made me so happy to see them everywhere we turned. My admiration for the Dutch and their universal determination to have gorgeous flowers in cold, grey February is immense.

Back outside, I am loathe to leave, it is such a beautiful oasis. I drift off and find myself trying to remember a the lines of a favourite poem…

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee

*TOM - The Old Man