There is an oasis of calm grasped by weary multitudes at 8pm on most Friday evenings, and it’s not just BBC Two’s  that offers this tranquillity.

Rather, it’s the familiar establishing shot of lead presenter Monty Don strolling alongside one of the garden borders of his Herefordshire home, his golden retriever Ned snuffling along at his heels, with only birdsong as his soundtrack. Monty – he operates on first-name terms only – will then address the camera, often about a particular horticultural problem that he’s keen to discuss. Once again, all’s right with the world.

The weekly restorative comes to an end tonight, however, when Monty delivers his final episode, having helmed 23 years of the near six-decades  that has existed. It’s the end of an era in which he has become the pre-eminent face of a pastime enjoyed by millions, whether they lord it over wide acres or tend to a simple window box.

Not only has Monty Don become a national treasure, his dress sense has become iconic. Once memorably described as a human Peter Rabbit, he’s rarely seen without his faded French workman’s jacket, and high-waisted corduroy trousers held aloft by braces. “Good trousers only start to feel right after a year or so,” he has said, adding that they keep your lower back warm.

His wardrobe is utilitarian but stylish, as befits a man who came to gardening after having run a high-end Knightsbridge costume jewellery business. Among his customers were Boy George, Michael Jackson and Diana, Princess of Wales, but the 1987 stock market crash bankrupted the business and exacerbated pre-existing bouts of depression. It was gardening that has saved him from “these great spans of muddy time”.

His admission of experiencing mental health issues changed people’s perceptions of Monty, and has highlighted the curative effects of working outdoors surrounded by nature. He has had other well-publicised health problems, including a minor stroke in 2008 that led him to drop his  gig for two years.

Amazingly, perhaps, Monty has never received formal training as a gardener, once commenting: “I was – am – an amateur gardener and a professional writer. My only authority came from a lifetime of gardening and a passion amounting to an obsession for my own garden.”

And since 1991, that garden has been Longmeadow, a formerly abandoned field in Herefordshire. It’s this attachment to one plot of land that makes Monty’s long tenure on  so relatable.

Gardening is evolution – a long process rooted in one place and rewarding patience and experiment. And Monty is not afraid of owning up to the sort of failures that gardeners suffer all the time – usually the wrong plant in the wrong place.

He is not without critics, with one recent headline blasphemously declaring: “Good riddance, Monty Don”. The gist of the article was that Monty has a large team of helpers and was therefore deceiving viewers that Longmeadow was all his own work. But most viewers surely realise that television is artifice and are inspired by Longmeadow rather than made to feel inadequate.

I admit to envying Monty his potting shed, but not his enormous greenhouse (way too large for my small north-facing garden). But overriding everything for me – Monty’s wardrobe, his openness about his mental health struggles or even his succession of adorable dogs – is the calm, practical advice. The internet is full of videos about pruning roses or potting up dahlias, but Monty is a born communicator, no-nonsense but with a top dressing of humour.

 is not  or  and a change of lead presenter won’t cause a national outcry. After all, Monty’s predecessors Alan Titchmarsh and Geoff Hamilton were once considered irreplaceable, and there is already a roster of well-liked and knowledgeable presenters able to fill his work boots (Francis Tophill and Adam Frost are among the frontrunners). All the same, I will miss him.

Monty Don’s final episode of ‘Gardener’s World’ is on tonight at 8pm on BBC Two