The best gardens contain surprises. I think we all love a glimpse of something partially hidden or something tiny and close to the ground – something that demands a deep bend for a closer look.
Neat rows of orderly vegetables appeal to me, but I can never manage this. My garden always seems like a tumble of squash vines trying to strangle wild grasses and penitentiary-style fencing set in odd circles around peppers and eggplants the rabbits won’t leave alone.
Take a walk with me. I’ll show you.
You may recall that a late-in-life first ever bee sting led to the discovery of what anaphylactic shock feels like, prompting me to remove most pollinator plants two springs ago. My planter, near a patio where I like to sit, is flower-free, but still eye-catching.
Notice the red grass behind it? I love that grass. It’s hum drum in the spring, but as plants dry and droop in the fall, this grass gets taller and redder and glows when the sun rises behind it.
You won’t be bored if I show you my veggies, will you? I never get over the wonder of harvesting food from plants I grew myself from seed. This year my carrots failed – today I harvested the three I managed to grow (rabbits nibbled the tops off yesterday, so I thought it was time…) Nothing is sweeter than a carrot grown without chemicals. I’m going to savour those three lumpy orange gems.
Both my husband and I are having lingering post GI-infection digestive issues. Our diets are odd. We can’t eat tomatoes (and, oh, how I love homegrown baby tomatoes) but we CAN eat squash. I have a bumper crop of both this year. The tomatoes are for sharing, and the squash will be for eating!
I saved the best for last.
For my birthday, my husband and daughter rehabilitated a sad-looking pond that I put in myself. They dug deep and inserted a (very) small pond liner. The sound of trickling water is soothing, I think, and we’ve managed it without hydro, thanks to a little ($30) solar-powered fountain. Once I get some plants to grow over the plastic edges, I think this little pond will be enchanting.
Obviously someone agrees with me.
Can you see him?
He moved in about two weeks ago.
Do I want to share something else with you? Weeellll… I’m not sure. But, I’ll set aside my pride and let you see me in action, putting in the first pond – the one that had to go. This is what happens when you wing it and have no idea (really) what you’re doing… it looked great for a little while, but then turned into a mucky mess. This video is courtesy of the library I work at.