It may not be something Vår Gård 's gardener Anders Grönkvist tells his bosses about, but he likes the off-season. An empty week like this, which happens to be the autumn holidays on top of everything, is more or less a jackpot for him. Then he can let loose with the loud equipment without any of the guests getting hurt.

Villa Skärtofta 's tower stretches against a compact grey sky, and a light rain falls on him as he, wearing earmuffs, pulls forward across the lawn with the leaf blower at full blast. The backpack-like device, and the funnel that runs from it, make Anders look like a member of Ghostbusters.

The autumn-speckled leaves are piled up, then he drives around with the tractor and sucks everything up into the trailer with the help of a giant hose. Then he tips the collection of leaves onto the compost. The lawn, which was covered in leaves at the start of the working day, is rubbish by the end of the working day.

Anders Grönqvist loves that aspect of his work: that he gets to see the difference he makes. It was actually one of the needs that made him choose the gardening profession once upon a time. In the 1980s, Anders Grönkvist cleared forests for four years, on behalf of the Swedish Land Administration.

Then automation made him and other manual loggers redundant. Time to change careers, but for what? Ever since he was a child, he had wanted to work outdoors, with his hands, and preferably alone.

The gardening profession felt like a logical choice. Anders furthered his education at Himmelstalundsskolan in Norrköping and abandoned the robust machinery of the forest, the chainsaw and clearing saw, for a more pimpinette arsenal: hedge trimmers and secateurs. An old classmate, Christian, had got a job at a conference facility in Saltsjöbaden , so Anders, who had never been to Stockholm before, traveled there to visit.

He fell in love with the environment: the golden reeds, the rare ripples of the water, and the vast lawns that undulated outside the remarkable architecture. “Tell me if your job ever becomes vacant,” joked Anders. A year later, that was exactly what happened. Christian put in a good word for his newly graduated friend and, at 27 years young, Anders could call himself the gardener at Vår Gård . The lion's share of working time was spent outdoors.

The work meant, just as he had hoped, a great deal of freedom. The only "boss" were really the seasons and the weather, and Anders liked to follow the whims of nature. He liked spring best, especially when planting the pansies, when he had that feeling that everything was ahead of him. And then the magnificent flowering season that followed. Then there was work to do. Anders was always busy, but never stressed.


ANDERS GRÖNQVIST
Age: 49 years.
Lives: Residential property in Saltsjöbaden , a four-minute bike ride from work.
Family: Single.
Job description: “Anyone who wants to prune a tree or a larger bush should do it during the JAS months” (i.e.: July, August, September). Then you can cut everything really hard.

It still has time to heal, mature and fallow in good condition.” My feeling about Vår gård : “It’s hard to imagine a better work environment. I look out the window and it’s like the archipelago outside. The working hours are good, I have a lot of freedom and I set my own days. Then there’s no skimping on the machinery either. I have all the best stuff. Plus, the food and coffee are fantastic.”

He managed to keep things neat around him, so neat that some passing pensioners asked him one day if he wanted to become a gardener for their housing association, also in Saltsjöbaden .

After seven years at Vår Gård it felt like a logical step in his career. At his next workplace, Anders was the sole manager, with a lot of responsibility. He averaged thirty phone calls a day, and was rarely able to devote himself to gardening without hindrance. There was nowhere to find strength.

The archipelago motif outside Vår gård was a thing of the past, and the desirable calm in his chest was replaced by a nagging stress. In the spring of 2017, when the opportunity to return to Vår Gård arose, he didn’t hesitate.

The lobby and dining room are afternoon wasteland when we settle into a sofa group. Anders looks around contentedly.

“Everyone else here needs customers to be able to do their job, but for me it’s almost the other way around,” he says.
- Weeks like this I can make as much noise as I want with the leaf blower.

So you want zero occupancy?
- Yes! he exclaims and laughs. Although it would be difficult to get anyone to pay my salary in the end.

Anders is dressed in a checked shirt and blue work trousers. A pout under his lip.
- I can't actually imagine any other job. Sitting in an office... my body hurts if I sit for too long. And I like working in peace. I'm so used to being alone. It's just enough to come in and have lunch with my colleagues, then I go out and do my thing.

- Out there in the garden it's just me. My colleagues are incompetent at that, so I'm the one who decides.

He decides himself what to plant in the urns, he explains, but of course he has to make some compromises. Like with the leaves, for example. If Anders had been left to decide, they would have been left to litter – a layer of leaves is an excellent protective layer for a winter-frozen lawn
– but Vår Gård also has aesthetic considerations. Many guests are charmed by the neatness.

- Although the guests can actually put up with a little bit of leaves in the flowerbeds, it is so beneficial for the flowers!

All in all, Anders Grönqvist has got it exactly the way he wants. He doesn't have to deal with computers. If an overhead projector breaks down, someone else has to come out.

We help each other with most things indoors, but outside it's just me. My colleagues are incompetent at that part, so outside I'm the one in charge.”

Anders Grönqvist, Gardener

– When it comes to technology, I am handicapped by a terrible lack of interest. You know, I am not even close to having any social media.
Like Ferdinand the bull, Anders is most comfortable alone in the green, and he has many dream projects: to plant a kitchen garden, and an orangery with vines climbing the roof.

At regular intervals, the evening newspapers publish hilarious lists of famous people named after what they work with: meteorologist Lisa Frost is self-taught, as is Radiosporten commentator Robert Tennisberg. Gardener Anders Grönqvist would be a given on such a list – the only catch is that he is not famous.
The fact is that he completely lacks the key characteristics of a media professional.

Anders Grönqvist is not bursting with enthusiasm, not a quote-chatterer in the Ernst Kirschsteiger way, not a wild-eyed lunatic like Gustav Mandelmann. He is low-key and competent, bordering on self-deprecating.

During the interview, the first time he ever does, he ignores all attempts to make him emphasize his own
importance. When, during a walk along the shore, I comment on how beautiful and well-kept everything is, he says:
- Oh. The best thing here is the water, and I can't take credit for that.
We peer out over the steel-gray water. The wind is blowing, the ducks are bobbing around.
In a few weeks the ice will come. Anders tells me that he usually takes time off during the "least sexy" months for gardeners: January and February. This time he's going to Rio de Janeiro.

When I ask him to describe the best thing about his job, the answer is not that he constantly gets to challenge himself or some other media-trained nonsense. Anders instead highlights the fact that he doesn't always have to think about what he's doing. Some tasks obviously require his complete presence, but others he can do with his mind elsewhere.

- When I'm blowing leaves, I don't have to think about blowing leaves, says Anders Grönqvist as we walk back towards the workshop.

- Then I'm completely away in some other world. Then I'm already in Rio de Janeiro dancing samba.