Our house is disappearing, as it does every year. After the flourish of spring flowers, there’s a pause, then a surge, when drifts of green heap on green, like chlorophyllous snow. We start to duck and weave on the path to the front door; the postman has to shimmy around plants that are engulfing the steps. I garden by happenstance – plants arrive of their own accord and aside from some deadheading and trimming, I leave them to it. There’s always been a froth of crosswort, pink campion, herb robert and ground ivy, and structure provided by knapweed, teasel and hawk’s-beard. Other species take turns to star. The first year was a riot of buttercups and speedwells. Then came a year when bugle was everywhere, one when valerian went mad, and another when a constellation of fox-and-cubs blazed like tiny suns. For a couple of years there were masses of mullein, with its furry leaves and oddly cumbersome yellow spires, and recently sweet cicely has made a strong, fragrant showing. We’re conditioned to worry about some of these – that there might be too many of this or that – but too many for what, or for whom? None have ever dominated to the detriment of all else. A surge of ground elder had me worried 10 years ago, but my paranoia was unfounded – it subsided and now just forms a part of the mix. I fretted about ragwort too, but here it grows well away from hayfields where its incorporation might be dangerous for livestock, and the insects vote with avid attendance for it to stay. This June’s runaway feature is viper’s-bugloss, which surprised local plant recorder Bill Thompson when a solitary rosette appeared at the edge of our patch a few years ago. Bill couldn’t decide whether the gritty lane-edge counted as garden or wild. He died two years ago, but I wish he could see what’s there now – a blue guard of honour all along the front wall. It’s an impressive plant – “stately” is the apt word used by botanists – grand, richly coloured and just prickly enough to command respect. But it won’t reign for long. It’s nature’s way to budge up and make space. We watch and learn.