Emma Townshend: "It's pouring out there - and it couldn't make me happier"

Our gardening correspondent isn't in love with being cold or wet; she just don't want to run away from it

Get out into the garden and let the autumn work its way into your skin (Getty Images)

It was an argument, on the face of it, about an umbrella. Most of the arguments I've had in my life I probably forgot about two hours later. Challenged at a distance to supply the reason why I yelled myself hoarse/ ripped up the photos of the night we met, I'd be in trouble. The umbrella argument, though, I recall as if it had happened a week ago.

The dispute concerned whether someone else should be allowed to hold an umbrella over my head when it was raining, even if I didn't want him to. I remember the exact street in Covent Garden; the people who walked past, dripping; the taxis, all full. God knows where we were coming from, or where we were going to, but this I do remember: getting very cross, and saying, "You're going to spike me in the eye! And anyway…" [pause for breath] "I actually like the rain." (You can see that Rihanna's romantic notion "You can stand under my umbrella, -ella" has still yet to work its magic on me.) And him getting right to the crux of it, when he said, "I can't walk along the road holding an umbrella over myself and not over you. It would look bad."

So the argument about the umbrella, which I am evidently still smarting over, boils down to this: do you want to put your face in the rain or not? When the weather turns, when it gets dark and crappy outside, do you own spectacular wet-weather clothing, probably sourced from Scandinavia, allowing you to keep going outside in the same comfort as if you were sitting in a toasty Swedish kitchen? Do you just hole up for the weekend and watch box sets until it stops? Do you have a whole flipping collection of umbrellas? Or do you, like me, look out the window, and quite wish you were walking along the street in the dark and the wet and the wind, with your hood down and no umbrella at all?

Gardening requires all kinds of temperaments, for sure. There are the very consistent, daily-attention-types who turn out to be the perfect formulation for vegetable growing. There are the whimsical gardeners, who find totally disgusting rubbish in skips and take it home to create something that seems wholly intentional and great. There are those people who force themselves outside, even though they hate the lengthening evenings, and people who don't garden at all from September on. And there are a few people, like me, who must at heart prefer things a bit dark and crappy.

Not for me the leaf-blower: I like that smell of leaves beginning to rot. Not for me the rake, mostly, either. But I do love the feeling of going outside, and doing an hour's work, and getting really quite wet and cold; disregarding the need for practical clothing, and just letting the autumn work its way into your skin a bit.

Obviously I wouldn't follow this code of behaviour if I got stuck up Snowdonia and was awaiting mountain rescue. But on a day-to-day basis, it's the only way I can actually deal with how much I hate October and most of November. This may seem surprising to say after apparently extolling the virtues of rain. But it's not that I'm in love with being cold or wet; I just don't want to run away from it.

When things become crap, I want to turn my face into it, not away. I don't want to put up an umbrella; I want to lean into it. And while there are wonderful ways to embrace autumn (appreciating the colour, carving pumpkins, you know the drill), as the year fades, as far as I'm concerned, there's only one way to properly say goodbye to it. And it involves absolutely no umbrellas at all.

Four more autumnal tips

Concentrate on indoors

If you're a fair-weather gardener, focus on ordering amaryllis in the next fortnight for Christmas magic. Sarah Raven has deep-red "Royal Velvet" for £10.95.

Keep off the grass

Lawns and flower beds are not to be walked on in heavy rain. Months of digging in compost to improve soil structure can be undone in a few small steps.

Order winter protection

Harrod Horticultural sells all you'll need to get tender plants through to spring, from cloches to a Mammoth Plant Jacket (£87.95, harrodhorticultural.com).

Get Weeding

It's often actually easier when it rains – especially weeds such as dandelions and our local pain-in-the-bum, alkanet, with its big tap roots.