Singing in the garden.

my garden, , , , , , ,

A finch was singing an exuberant evening song, as I gathered my trowel and gloves and empty plastic pots into the garage, planning to call it a day. It was 7:00, after all. But then I remembered I had wanted to take a picture of the rudbeckia, even though it is far from blooming; it’s huge, and so robust — much bigger than I imagined it would get, when I planted it last fall. I didn’t take its picture after all, but I did notice that my eight butternut squash plants nearby looked a little dry, so I dragged the hose over and gave them all a long drink. The pansies needed deadheading, so I did that as well….

Pineapple Guava

Today was warm enough that I could comfortably spend a few hours in my garden, and the whole time feel that I was floating from one blessed task from another, in my little piece of Paradise. Many of the plans I made in the fall are coming to fruition; the plants that I transplanted to and from the front and back gardens, and the new ones I installed, are thriving and starting to bloom. I am so thankful.

The area by the front door is still somewhat of a hodgepodge, at least while the California poppies and nigella are doing their thing. When they are done it will be a little less crowded, the clary sage (three plants!) will bloom, and that scent will quicken soul and body.

Nigella, Love-in-a-Mist, about to open.
Borage volunteer.

More and more, I realize that with home and garden things, the only one I need to please is myself — and I am trying to be easier to please. Last summer when I asked my old gardening friend to look at my garden with me, I thought she would be be wise about helping me with decisions, as she has known and helped me at various times since we were neighbors, decades ago. But back then we were similarly limited in what we could do with our gardens.

This time I was surprised and disillusioned. She scrutinized and judged my garden according to the principles she goes by in her own garden, which covers a couple of acres, and for which she has a full-time gardener to execute her designs. She told me I need more “white space.” After she went home I thought long and hard about that; I knew that what I really wanted was less white space.

Bugloss is also in the borage family.

This afternoon I planted two of the four tomato plants I bought recently. I am so excited about growing tomatoes again, now that I am using the sunnier front yard for things that need full sun. I also set out into my planter boxes the parsley and basil that looked like one plant each, in 4-inch pots. In the last few years these are so often actually several plants that are growing all crowded together. In this case I separated out eight tiny parsley plants and eleven basil plants! Of course, so tightly packed like that, many of them have minimal root systems, so they don’t usually all survive. I wish I could buy a six-pack instead, but such a thing isn’t to be had.

There are too many things I want to tell about, having to do with my beloved garden. They will have to spill over into another post, soon. I do want to say that I often think about how much my late husband would have liked this garden. I’m pretty sure he would be, or is, very happy that I took out the swimming pool and managed, with a lot of help, to create this special place. My heart is singing — and the olive trees are in bloom.

13 thoughts on “Singing in the garden.”

  2. I’m so glad for you and your garden. The “white space” must really be personal preference… I know the difference in Southern gardens between the formal kind, with the geometry of the layout being one of the visual features, and the other kind (for which I don’t have the right word), and which is my preference – the kind that has a plan but is made to look like it has happened just by nature itself. The word “lush” came to my mind and I looked it up: “Lush commonly describes thick, healthy, and vibrant vegetation, or something luxurious, sumptuous, and rich in quality. It suggests opulent, soft abundance, often applied to landscapes, textures, or sounds.” What joy a garden can be!

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    1. Last year when I realized the difference between my vision and my friend’s, I found a wonderful organization that explains the concept you are describing. I felt very affirmed! At the moment I can’t remember enough to say more, but I’ve been planning to write a post about it eventually.

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  5. You do live a blessed life, with time and money enough to create as you please. Reading about your neighbor’s advice and the issue of white space, I couldn’t help thinking of the quotation from Georgia O’Keeffe that lives on a refrigerator magnet in my kitchen. Georgia once said, “I still like the way I see things best.”

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    1. Your comment is very helpful, Linda, putting the emphasis on what I do have, and all the pleasing aspects of my life.
      IF I had more land and more sunshine and more money, I’d probably have more white space in my landscaping, too. But one thing that pleases me is doing most of my own gardening. So it works out well to have a smallish suburban property, especially as I have less strength and energy than I used to. Love that O’Keeffe quote!

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  7. I would love to walk around your garden with you and admire your many lovely shrubs and flowers. I’m quite sure I would love everything about it.

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  8. I always enjoy your garden posts. I especially liked a couple of quotes – “More and more, I realize that with home and garden things the only one I need to please is myself – and I am trying to be easier to please.” I also like the Georgia O’Keeffe quote.

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