Quiet gardens: time to sit and stare "The Quiet Garden Movement is about giving people permission to step back and experience a sense of stillness and wonderment," says the Reverend Roderick. We have all become so hyperactive, our lives have become so sound-soaked, we cannot hear the sound of a falling flower in a quiet garden. And there aren't many places where falling flowers are harder to hear than in the London borough of Hackney. All the more need, then, for the Quiet Garden which has been created by local vicar Elizabeth Welch, and her husband, Peter. Transformed three years ago from an overgrown wasteland, this low-walled little oasis is, literally, a stone's throw from the scene of last summer's riots. "The electrical store at the end of our road was one of several shops that got looted," says Elizabeth. Mind you, at the best of times, Hackney is an edgy, busy place, with lots of gangs and street crime. A lot of people live in flats, too, so they really appreciate the chance to get out and spend some time in a garden like ours. And while some visitors like to sit back in one of the garden's leafy bowers, others prefer to explore the thought paths down which Elizabeth leads them. "There is so much in a garden that speaks to us, about both nature and ourselves," she says. I encourage people to contemplate the way in which plants seem to make the transition from death in winter, to new life in spring. I get people to look at the roots of the sycamore tree, deep in the earth, and think about the parts of ourselves that are on show, and the parts that we keep hidden. Maybe even reflect on what parts of us have withered and died. If it pours with rain, they all go indoors. Part of the Quiet Garden philosophy is that garden owners should not only allow visitors into their back yards, but into their front rooms, too. "We tell people, 'This is your home for the day," " says retired GP George Hobbs, who, with his wife, Elizabeth, opens up the family residence in Chertsey, Surrey. The couple have a handsome Georgian home, as well as a charming walled garden full of fruit trees and tulip trees, Magnolia grandiflora and even a handkerchief tree. They want their visitors to experience the warmth of the human spirit, as well as the wonders of nature. "For some people, just sitting still in a tranquil garden can be quite overpowering," says Dr Hobbs. One of the most profound experiences I have ever had took place 20 years ago, yet I can recall it as vividly as yesterday. I was sitting in a garden, in front of some beautiful flowers, and I focused on this one, single daffodil for 20 minutes or more, never taking my eyes off it. I became so aware of the sheer depth of perfection embodied within that single bloom. At their garden in Essex, the Chapmans also find visitors can be bowled over by surprising things. "We have a mown labyrinth around which people can walk, and in summer, the grass on its borders can get quite high," says Michael. Just by holding out her hand and feeling the tall grass with her fingertips, an elderly lady found herself transported back to a walk she had taken as a four year-old. The sensation was so vivid, she could recite the names of all the people who had been present on that walk. People she hadn't seen, or even thought about, for many decades. Sometimes, though, the gardens can work their magic when there's no one else around. Quite a few are owned not by private individuals, but by organisations. For example, the extraordinary little triangle of ground that is the Cardinal Basil Hume Quiet Garden, next to the old Bunhill Fields cemetery, in the City of London. Measuring no more than 30ft by 30ft, this former car park stands in the shadow of several office blocks, yet its creeper-entwined railings and towering bamboo fronds form a tiny, private sanctuary amid the hustle and bustle of the metropolis. Meanwhile, several miles downriver in the south-west London village of Mortlake, stands another, equally unexpected Quiet Garden. Hidden away among a warren of council flats and Victorian cottages, is the lovely little church of St Mary's, built in 1543, complete with a gold weather vane and a secluded cemetery. It's no more than 100 yards from two busy roads and the mainline South West Trains route to Waterloo, yet the only sounds are the gentle swish of distant traffic, and the faint rumble of distant train carriages. It, too, has a grass labyrinth. A leaflet encourages visitors to pause and reflect on the circular, and sometimes roundabout, nature of one's journey through life. Come the morning and evening rush hour, the churchyard is a busy cut-through for commuters, but outside those hours, visitors are few and far between. That the Quiet Garden holds a place in their hearts, though, is confirmed by a handwritten sign, drawn in several different colours of felt-tip pen. "As a dog owner," it reads, "I know how grateful we are to be able to use St Mary's Churchyard. Please let's keep this sanctuary clean and safe. "Cos we love St Mary's. Woof, woof, woof! Quirky, friendly, quiet. The sign sums up the unique appeal of this very British organisation; 20 years old and thriving. The Quiet Garden Movement is holding its 20th anniversary celebrations in the grounds of Worth Abbey, Sussex, today, at 10.30am (suggested donation £15). To find out when and where Quiet Gardens are open, or to put forward your own garden for visits, phone 01494 434873, or visit quietgarden.org