A Welsh garden visit

Lowri Haf is a publicity volunteer on the Gwynedd team in Wales. At 26, she’s one of the youngest people volunteering for the National Garden Scheme and, always keen to attract younger supporters, we asked Lowri to tell us about her first garden visit. Here are her observations from her visit to Coed Ty Mawr.

I climb out of my car and I’m welcomed by Nonni Goadby, a smiley lady with sun-kissed skin from spending many afternoons tending to her five acre garden. After a brief chat and a pamphlet of her garden’s story, I walk through a black gate into the garden. The singsong notes of blackbirds and chiffchaffs cut through grey clouds, and as if on cue, a beam of sun breaks through like a centre-stage spotlight on the garden of Coed Ty Mawr.

A cluster of daisies with pink tips on their petals remind me of summers spent sitting on the school field making daisy chain crowns or chanting ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ as I picked off petals that fell to the floor, and next to them, blue clusters of forget-me-not’s.

Further along I’m greeted by a row of trees with plum-coloured leaves on either side of a neatly mowed path. Daffodils, bluebells, and a deep pink rose bush all work together to showcase a collage of colour, which deepens the redness of the cherry plum trees. I meander past tangerine and fiery red shades of Rhododendron varieties. The scene changes then, as delicate ivory petals cascade from a Japanese cherry tree, where three elf statues sit at its base with expressive faces. It feels fairytale-esque and I find myself somewhere between the Secret Garden and Alice in Wonderland. The mooing of a cow from a neighbouring field breaks me from my trance, and I continue on my journey until I reach one of the many seating spots in the garden. A spring breeze whistles through metallic chimes, initiating a symphony between a robin, wren and three greenfinch. Between branches I make out the shadows and shapes of more songbirds, which reminds me of the pair of binoculars I’ve neglected on the back seat of my car. A robin makes an exit as a crow comes into sight, and a wooden wind chime behind me adds percussion to accompany the ensemble.

There’s something meditative about the softness of sounds in the garden. I observe the interchanging birds for an unknown amount of time, captured by the unique arpeggios of each species. Later, as my mind wonders, I begin to think about how it’s been a very long time since I’ve allowed myself to sit outdoors for the simple pleasure of sitting side by side with nature.

My wondering takes me beyond my own longing for peace, to an imagined experience where my grandmother sits next to me in her wheelchair. She had an extraordinary rose bush in her garden, and a large lavender bush that would host numerous bumble bees in the summer months. After her stroke the garden became one of the only accessible ways for her to enjoy the outdoors. I think she would have liked Nonni’s garden. She would have enjoyed the seclusion of this corner, studying the plant varieties with a sharp eye and laughing at the performance of the birds. The only thing missing was a gin and tonic in a little crystal glass, which reminded me of the tea and scones that were waiting for me on the patio near the house.

With afternoon tea on my mind, I decide to circle the rest of the garden. I pass a spectacular two-toned snow gum tree that has pale and dark stripes along its body, followed by ash and then bamboo. The woodland opens itself up to expose a pond with a bridge and blue handrails. Walking along, I spot the large leaves of rhubarb and after inspecting the pond I’m relatively certain that it’s a near-perfect home for toads.

I finish my adventure on the patio, listening to Nonni advise visitors on their garden design and which plants to pair with each other for specific outcomes. Opening my little yellow map, I find my county’s subheading, and search for the descriptions and dates of other spectacular gardens, eager for my next outing.

You can visit Nonni and her garden at Coed Ty Mawr in Gwynedd when it opens by arrangement for groups of up to 50 until 25 October. For more details CLICK HERE

This article first appeared in the 2026 Little Yellow Book of Gardens and Health – read more about it here