He’s a magnificent broadcaster, gifted gardener, brilliant author and all-round horticultural visionary. This month, Alan Titchmarsh talks about fine festivities in our gardens.

Christmas has a funny way of creeping into the garden. It starts with a string of subtle, seductive fairy lights over the porch and, before you know it, you’ve got a 12ft inflatable reindeer hanging from the rooftop!

Now, I’m all for a bit of sparkle, and if kids are present, there’s arguably no sight more exciting than gazing out on the garden on Christmas Eve with the expectancy that Santa and his reindeer will soon be laying tracks across the lawn (they can’t land on the roof because of that inflatable!).

However, where the outdoor festive feel is concerned, I think the garden deserves something subtle, classy, and in keeping with the season.

Last year, I took a wander down the path on Christmas Eve and realised that the holly bush by the gate was doing all the work on its own. A few scarlet berries, glinting in the frost, looked more authentic than anything I could plug into a socket. It made me think: why not let the plants take centre-stage?

A sprig of rosemary tucked into a wreath gives a waft of scent every time you pass the door. Ivy trails, woven around lanterns, bring an old-fashioned charm. Even crab apples left on bare branches can look like baubles against a wintry backdrop.

The trick is to decorate by using what the garden is already offering. One December, I trimmed a few twigs of dogwood and popped them in a jug on the windowsill. The red stems against a backdrop of white fairy lights felt so simple, but visitors thought I’d been terribly clever. Really, it was the dogwood doing all the heavy lifting.

Also, it doesn’t have to solely be about natural elements. Some old blocks of wood painted to look like presents can be a nice addition to a flowerbed. Consider, as well, placing red candles in terracotta plant pots for a warm festive glow.

Ultimately though, this Christmas, instead of filling every corner with tinsel, I’ll let the garden do its quiet magic - a partnership of light, leaf, and a touch of imagination. After all, even in midwinter, nature knows how to throw a party.