I am now tidying up and putting away watering cans, tubs of tender plants and plant theatres away. These go under cover in winter wherever I can find space. My tubs of agapanthus are being moved into the greenhouse earlier than usual to let them dry off before winter. Normally they would be outside until the end of October. The pots are back-breakingly heavy this year due to all the extra rainfall, so I have lined them up on the lawn for the rufty-tufty one to move. Yes, ladies, they are still there! I am also taking cuttings now, which is far too late really, but I am not alone. Many gardeners I know are doing the same. I am still hoping for an Indian summer of still, sunny days to allow me to clean and wash out the metal greenhouse with its algae-streaked glass and miserable-looking tomatoes.

After a year such as this, the temptation is to hack everything back to bare earth and retreat inside for the winter months. However, this would not be good news for wildlife, particularly the small insects and minibeasts that need somewhere to shelter. They may seem insignificant, but they underpin the eco-system in your garden. They need cover and vegetation and even brown vegetation offers a refuge. So a large swathe of my garden is left intact and tackled in late January or early February. Hopefully, it will catch the frost after the late-season grasses and perennials have finished. The main picture shows this area in December. In autumn, many plants are still rejuvenating themselves and one should never cut green leaf away while it’s there.

Leaves are falling and I am surrounded by beech trees to the north, so I am clearing them from paths and the lawn, or should I say moss garden. My lawn is full of it, despite being exposed to bright light. I am also tidying up the leaves where spring woodlanders and bulbs are, although beech leaves are not as cloying as some. I leave as many leaves as I can in other areas. Twenty years ago, I would have collected every one. However, one winter’s day I was gathering leaves up wearing thick gloves. The phone rang and I took them off to answer, but then couldn’t find them again. When I began using my bare hands, I felt lots of lumps and bumps. Checking the wheelbarrow, I found I had collected four toads and five newts hibernating under the hedge. I carefully replaced the leaves and the sleeping beauties, noticing spiders and beetles as I did so. Leaves are not rubbish: they are the duvet of the natural world.