GARDENING is often seen as a leisure pursuit, and gardeners as laid back. But a thriving garden can provide a "to do" list like no other, and can feed the most obsessive person's need for busyness. From early spring until July, I always find myself a willing slave to the garden's needs. Then along comes August, and I lose interest in getting things done. I have learnt to accept this letting go, and trust in it as part of the year's cycle: a time for "being", not "doing". A few jobs call me to action, and I try to perform them mindfully, enjoying the multisensory experience of being wrapped in such fecundity.

On holiday, I like to see what other gardeners have been up to that suits my observant mode; it would be plain rude to reach into a summer border to pluck out an errant sow thistle. Then, as the days shorten and the sun softens, I begin to refocus on my plot, take stock, and make tentative plans.

This year, inspiration has come from two different sources: a visit to the Grade I listed Plas Brondanw gardens in Gwynedd, Wales; and the woefully short Channel 4 series Kirstie's Fill Your House for Free.

The gardens at Plas Brondanw are the work of the architect Sir Clough Williams-Ellis. His father gave him the estate in 1904, when Williams-Ellis was 21. It became his abiding passion, alongside his profession, with the same eye for beauty driving both. He delineated the basic structure of the garden almost immediately, and proceeded to fill in the picture as funds permitted. This is sound advice, and pertinent to most of us faced with a new garden today.

The garden has the advantage of a spectacular setting, and the borrowed landscape is one of its strengths. He created two main axes, determined by Snowdonia summits. The format is essentially formal with topiary and hedging framing the distant views and dividing the garden into spaces, intimate and expansive by turn. The planting is relaxed and unpretentious, with rhododendrons, azaleas, and hydrangeas forming the mainstay.

What I was ready to take on board, though, were the quirky features that personalised the garden. Pillars, urns, eclectic statuary, gates topped with mermaids all drew attention. The wrought ironwork was painted in two colours, mainly turquoise, with fixtures and finials in mustard yellow. Encountering these strong hues felt reassuring and authentic.

So where, you ask, does a TV home-improvement programme fit in with this? Fill Your House for Free achieved beautiful results using recycled junk and found paraphernalia. A lick of paint was usually crucial to the transformation.

My resolve is to identify two signature colours, source some paint in readiness, and start seeking out unwanted treasures: a broken pew as a feature bench, curtain rods used vertically as follies in the border, lampshade frames as plant-supports, and a mirror to create a cheat claire-voie. I'm even toying with the idea of an outdoor bath in a flowery bower, but perhaps I'm getting carried away.