When does the garden year begin? The enthusiast would declare that it has no beginning and no ending.

But whatever may be the case with the garden itself, it is certain that a book about gardens must have some point of departure.

January is chosen from a sense of custom rather than from a conviction that it is the month of months for gardeners - that in January most people who practise gardening during part of the year make their annual start. I do not think that they begin in January as a rule. People who pursue gardening in one well-marked period probably work, roughly, from mid-March to September inclusive. If gardening is discontinued at all it is given up when the long nights and cold weather of October come. And if it is darkness and cold which induce amateurs to suspend operations, these discomforts are likely to retain their influence until the end of February at least.

Many people specialise particular plants, or classes of plants, in these days, however, and so are led on from season to season. Perhaps they are Daffodil or Tulip lovers, in which case they pot and plant in Autumn for the Spring display. Possibly they are Chrysanthemum enthusiasts, and if so the delights of their gardening year will not culminate until November. If they are rosarians they will probably be gathering flowers in October (the Rose is very nearly an all-the-year-round plant nowadays), and certainly they will be planting in November.

Mainly About Seeds

January is rarely an active month in the garden. It is a month of preparation rather than of active work. It is the great seed-buying month. The last batch of New Year Cards has hardly finished fluttering through the door than the heavy thud of the catalogues begins. The minor writer quivers at the thumps in the letter-box; they so often mean returned manuscripts. But the garden-lover rejoices in them. He pores over the descriptions of new plants. He gloats over the beautiful pictures.

Old garden stagers never delay despatching their seed order until the Spring. They have learned from experience that they are never quite safe unless they get the seed early and keep it by them. Weather vagaries have to be reckoned with. If amateurs sometimes have to lag behind the calendar they can sometimes anticipate it. Let me give an illustration.

I am presently going to say that a person who has a warm, sheltered place in the garden may sow green Peas in the latter half of February. That is quite the orthodox thing. But if there is snow on the ground he will not act until it has gone, and that may mean sowing in March. Supposing that at the end of January the weather is mild, and the soil dry enough to crumble freely, is there any serious objection to anticipating the calendar by a whole month? There is not. If the favourable conditions for sowing come, and the grower has the seed by him, let him take the risk with a light heart. The seed may lie dormant for some time if the weather should turn cold, but it is not likely to perish.

Here, then, is one advantage of buying seeds in January; they are always ready when wanted. Another is that there is rarely the disappointment of finding that something which was particularly wanted has been sold out. In the case of novelties, which are always in great demand, this may easily happen in February, still more easily in March.

Those leisurely garden-lovers who rouse themselves from their winter sleep in March, and, tearing off the wrapper of a catalogue, begin to make selections of Sweet Peas, are sometimes brought up with a round turn at finding that the most admired variety on the coloured plate is not procurable. Early buyers have gobbled it up to the last seed.

Amateur gardeners rejoice in a batch of catalogues as a bibliophile revels in the crowded shelves of a bookshop. How enticing are the descriptions! How ravishing are the illustrations I Perhaps a little perplexity creeps in when one reads of a dozen varieties of Kidney Beans, all of which have marvellous cropping powers, huge pods, and delicious flavour. One wants them all, yet has room only for two. Or one has heard what a beautiful annual the Godetia is, and, little recking that there are many varieties, is a little bewildered when, on turning to the page, one finds that a choice has to be made from among fifteen to twenty sorts. But the writer of gardening books will not deplore the fecundity of seed-raisers, because it drives the buyer to consult his pages. And the odds are that the novice himself will find a fearful and secret joy in getting himself enmeshed in a mass of plant names.

During the progress of my chapters from January to December I shall have occasion to refer to a good many varieties of flowers, fruits, and vegetables, many of which are raised from seeds. Let me save repetition later on by offering some practical suggestions about seed-buying at the outset.