MY NEW BEST FRIEND ... or how I got into the world of bonsai

Bonsai is a whole new world for me, and rather like a rookie parent, there is much to learn. However, I was not daunted – after all a plant is a plant – and it comes with all the usual ‘bits’ – roots stem leaves and flowers if you’re lucky.

You may already know this, but bonsai is an art form that stems from an ancient, oriental culture, originating in China and developed by the Japanese. In the 13th century, the Japanese collected and potted wild trees that had been dwarfed by nature. These naturally formed miniatures were some of the first bonsai.

When demand for the small trees outgrew the supply, Japanese gardeners began to train bonsai from native trees. They shaped the trees to give them the illusion of age. The art of bonsai, as developed in America, is much freer in concept and style than Japanese bonsai.

I wanted everyone to enjoy my miniature tree, so I put it in pride of place on the top of the bookcase in the hall.
What happened next turned into a bit of a blur: an old school friend who was staying with me invited someone for tea, who turned out to be a bonsai-er of some note – winning medals for his efforts, and regularly being Best in Show at his local version of Chelsea.

Introductions over, things turned brutal.  

This love affair that had developed between me and my miniature fig suddenly got turned on it’s head. I was being bombarded with harsh sentiments such as following rules, pinching to form distinct foliage pads, wiring and root pruning.

The plant and I were removed from the hall and frog-marched into the kitchen. The fig was up-ended out of its pot. The roots had to be pruned, and this meant removing around 2cms on all sides (and bottom) of the root ball. I did this under instruction with my bread knife.

What savagery – I thought that the plant would never forgive me.

Then the conversation moved on to training and wiring – it sounded so awful that I could have fainted at that moment. ‘De-limb this part, turn this stem 90 degrees to the left, feed it, water it and you should be OK, and by the way your plant is entirely in the wrong place, it should be outside, and oh, your fig is a good beginner’s plant…ouch.’

Said afternoon tea guest was lead away into the sitting room as if nothing had happened - I was left reeling. Everyone settled down into gentle chit-chat about weather and stuff, but I secretly knew I had to toughen up if my plant and I were to be pushed out into the world of medals and Best in Shows.

Maybe not just yet.