Tag Archives: design

Singing in the 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.

Chocolates and swans in the garden.

I noticed recently that I am always writing the same words about my garden. Things have changed a bit in the last year, though. I’m not sure the net result is positive, but maybe it will all lead to me saying something new eventually.

Echinacea with teucrium in background.

The new landscaper is soon going to be the former landscaper. He just doesn’t have a vision of garden beauty that matches mine, and I haven’t been won over. Unfortunately, I had to actually see his ideas “leafed out” before I could know how wrong they are; now I need to fix some design problems by moving plants in the fall, and buying a couple of new ones. I’d hoped to have all this done by last fall and to be enjoying the refurbished areas by now.

Chocolate Cosmos with an Iceland Poppy behind.

Oh, well, a garden is always a process, and I suppose it’s like with so many projects: everything takes longer than expected. And it is a joy to work out there, or to wander. I took a walk in a more upscale neighborhood near mine, and noticed that some front yards are tidy and boring, and some are a bit messy or hodgepodge-y. The latter are obviously houses where the owner(s) like gardening and are trying out different things, and don’t have the time or know-how to do the successive plantings or the upkeep to keep it looking interesting and orderly at the same time. So I won’t worry too much if mine is not perfect, either… It’s just that I thought the area right by the front door should look more put together than it does.

Lavender and fig tree

Depending on the viewing angle and size of frame you are focusing on, there are still some very nice scenes, front and back. Those are the ones I’m sharing in this post. My own hodgepodge I will ignore for now.

The Chocolate Cosmos is new to me and to the garden. There are three shades of color, and the plants I bought are medium-dark chocolate. They are perennials with a tuberous root, and reports conflict about whether they will even like winters here. I had to take out some very happy Iceland poppies to make a place for them; it must be that the poppies are getting enough shade there to keep blooming, and I’m glad I didn’t have to take them all out yet.

One thing I like is that the landscaper divided the White Swan echinacea so that I have more of it now; likewise a favorite violet salvia. I’m working on getting even more of those White Swans to plant in a couple of months before they go dormant.

Today I cleaned up around some plants, like the acanthus above, taking away dead leaves and pulling out little grass sprouts that are remnants of big ornamental grasses that I removed last year. The grass shoots were growing out of the Yerba Buena ground cover, too, so as I knelt on it or moved the long stems aside, its most delicious scents were released into the atmosphere.

It was only recently that I learned, or remembered, that these white echinaceas are called Swans. It really is the perfect name for them, and makes me love them more. My garden is overflowing with gifts

Visions of holiness in the garden.

“Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.” -Psalm 96:9

Back when my new garden was in its immaturity, and gave the impression of rolling hills of orangey mulch, with lonely plant starts like trees on the prairie, I knew that I wanted an icon there, to honor the presence of Christ and his saints. I invited artistic Christian guests to sit over dinner in the garden and discuss the eventual placement of the stand for the icon that I didn’t own yet; I didn’t know at that point whose iconic image I wanted.

Years went by after I had decided on the spot, and a thousand decisions about other things crowded out any research I might do on this question, other than browsing pictures of such displays online, by which I developed a vague idea of what sort of frame and post I wanted. And I knew the icon must be of a material that wouldn’t be damaged by the weather.

Then one day, I think it was in 2019, I happened to see on Facebook this stone icon of the mother of Christ, carved by Jonathan Pageau, and it was available. I hadn’t been looking, and it wasn’t up very long; now I wonder if God didn’t arrange the whole thing, knowing that I would never finish my project if He didn’t put her right in front of me. Later I thought how natural it is that she would be the subject of sacramental art in my garden, she who was certainly in that historic garden 2,000 years ago — the place where her Son revealed Himself to have conquered death, and where women first discovered the empty tomb.

Eventually I asked my dear woodworking friend Aaron if he would build the stand, in his spare time – ha! What diligent husband and father of four has spare time? But he really wanted to do it, and he and I conferred over the last few months about the design and what wood he would use. The pandemic and resulting quarantine recently gave him the extra time he needed.

It was nearly on the eve of Myrrhbearers’ Sunday that he let me know he was ready, and he came with his older son to install it. Their appreciative sharing of my natural paradise for an hour was added joy for all of us. O glorious day! And now, though the beautiful plants will bloom and fade, come and go with the seasons and years, this reminder of permanent and heavenly realities is finally here, and I feel that my garden is complete.

“Through icons the Orthodox Christian receives a vision
of the spiritual world.”
-Timothy Ware

Shy and Peruvian, black and beautiful.

gl-15-img_3268-peruvian-sage-sep-16
salvia discolor

This unusual Peruvian or Andean Sage that I found at a nursery nearby has grown up and started blooming. I almost didn’t see the flowers, they are so shy and mostly hidden. I saw a website that said they were large and showy… if they become that I will be sure to take another picture.

Even without the blue-black flowers, the plant is very pretty, the way it drapes its graceful stems in the air. The stems and the backs of the leaves are silvery white, and the newer parts of the stems are very sticky.

gl-15-p1050493-crp-peruvian-sage

It makes me happy, the way it has quietly thrived and come into itself. I hope it will survive the winter and come again in the spring. It’s not listed in the Sunset Western Garden Book, but since it was propagated locally there’s a good chance it’s suited to our area.

I thought of it when I read this email from Salvo Magazine this morning. Beauty like this naturally makes us humans remember the Creator and Giver of beauty:

Is Planet Earth Trying to Tell Us Something?

You may know the standard line of evolutionary biologist-atheists like Richard Dawkins, which goes something like this:

Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose. (Dawkins, The Blind Watchmaker, 1996, p. 1)

Got that? “Have the appearance.” Don’t be fooled, warns Dawkins, for:

Natural selection is the blind watchmaker … does not see ahead, does not plan consequences, has no purpose in view. Yet the living results of natural selection overwhelmingly impress us with the illusion of design and planning. (Richard Dawkins, The Blind Watchmaker, 1996, p. 21)

It’s all an illusion of design. So ignore what your eyes and brain [and heart? -GJ] are telling you. They’re mistaken.

But apparently this habit of the mind that sees purposeful design in biology has spread beyond biology to the entire planet!

From the Daily Mail:

Sir David Attenborough and Brian Cox’s TV nature shows are ‘putting viewers off science’ because the beautiful scenes reaffirm belief in God.

* New study suggests nature programmes are putting viewers off science.
* Religious people often ‘have faith reaffirmed by the beauty on the screen.’

In the first bullet point, put “science” in quotes. They don’t mean science per se; they mean materialism or scientism.

There is no escaping it: The Planet Earth is stunningly beautiful. A wiser man wrote:

If the beatification of the world is not a work of nature but a work of art, then it involves an artist. -G. K. Chesterton

Draw your own conclusions, but don’t let someone tell you don’t see what you do see.