… gardens can be a place to escape to, someone’s own magical world they create all for themselves.
Instead of getting weary… I’m waking up. Coming out of that strange sort of summer sleepwalk, emerging like a hibernating bear of southern latitudes.
I dove right in to the challenge the house and those gardens presented. And the love of it all spread and thrived inside me.
Sometimes I wish I could go to sleep for the winter…dig down deep into the earth and wake up to new warmth and light.
For all the flowers I’ve grown in my gardens over the years, dahlias have not been among them. Too frilly, too fussy, I always thought. Most annuals, in fact, are not my cup of tea. I prefer perennials that grow in the ground and return year after year, with little […]
Maybe the leaves I found mean nothing except an early arrival of autumn this year. Maybe they are flukes, a mistake of one maple’s DNA code. Or maybe they’re n
Most of the time they are chopped off, as gardeners are want to do, to help all the energy go into the developing bulb below. And it makes sense to us, who eat them. But that’s not what the onion wants.
Nature has its own ideas of freedom, too. Whether you live in the suburbs or on a farm, a quiet battle is continually underway, a fight to keep the wild things at bay…
The greenhouse, though potentially functional, was the last real eyesore for me on the farm. Sitting there, raw and naked in the sun, weeds and chipmunk burrows sprouting up through the gravel base….
With the soft blue-purple irises starting to fade behind them into the background, the bright blooms come alive even more…