Guerrilla in the city: Monkeys in the car park
Guerrilla gard ening. T here's something inherently edgy to it. Something appropriately urban about it. And yet - I won't lie - it doesn't sit naturally with me. For me, the act of being forced underground, to garden on the sly, is a must rather than want. After all, I've always loved gardening, and was lucky to grow up having free reign over the garden. But living the life of a city slicker, the reality is that the only outside space I have is a few square metres of quality tarmac in an outdoor car park. So - and here's my excuse - whatever I did re plants in the city, it was inevitably going to lead to some guerrilla gardening. It was inevitable, too, that when me and my partner noticed that a shrubby border in the car park, only planted last summer, had been neglected and choked out by weeds, we were forced to take matters into our own hands. The first time we worked on the border, we took out a bag full of weeds - mostly couch grass - pick...