My Little Garden

My garden is small. That is as it should be for a place that is cared for by superannuated tenders.

While it is doubtful that my wife and I knew or cared much about how the other felt about gardening when we were courting, to share this passion has been one of the joys of a long marriage. My interest in gardens stemmed from watching my family cultivate its back and side yards when I was a little boy. My wife’s story is similar. But it doesn’t matter; we’re in this together.

Our initial serious effort was in our second suburban back yard. We looked at the lay of the land and thought we could make it into something very special and we did. Dozens of azaleas planted in the understory of our gently rising woodlot coupled with many species of small native trees turned the place into a paradise.

We retired to the coast and moved to a house that was sited on a small knoll and which sported an even larger forest. We spent the next nine years turning our spread into a woodland that would have inspired Winny the Poo and Christopher Robin to many great imaginative adventures. This landscaping effort was a labor of love but as we grew older we realized that we had to downsize.

Our townhouse in the Northern Virginia suburbs of Washington, DC came with an undeveloped patio garden measuring about twenty-two feet by fifteen feet. This became our great gardening challenge. How to transform a mostly paved patio into a garden so serene, contemplative and consoling as to satisfy ambitious gardeners with a lifetime of experience? First we settled on a design theme: Japanese. We purchased shrubs, trees and garden accessories and planted and placed with great care.

Even in the first year sitting (and drinking) in the late afternoon was a joy. The fact that the garden was on the east side of the house was supposed to take away from our ability to cultivate our plants, but it hasn’t turned out that way at all. Naturally, we had to select shrubs and trees that that did not require full sunshine, but this was not a problem, and the azaleas, rhodies, andromedas, and all the rest are thriving. More important, the east facing is the first to cool when the sun moves, and only on the hottest summer days are we prevented from adding to the fortunes of American brewers and distillers.

Since 1981, my wife has been a humming bird enthusiast, and every year she has been successful in attracting a family to our garden. Even in the first year in our patio garden, she lured a happy band of tiny dive bombers for our summer pleasure. This year's family took possesion about two weeks ago and show little fear of us.

In the last few days, we have become overjoyed at another development. Our wren house has been selected for occupancy and the hard working couple is in the process putting the finishing touches on the place. Already, I have been chewed out by the little groom who challenges my title to the property whenever I venture into his yard. But even on the third day of possession he is growing more tolerant of his gigantic but lumbering and apparently benign co-owner. It appears that our shrubs and trees have grown sufficiently large and full to provide the cover that he and the Mrs. feel is essential for their brood to be.

Over the course of our short tenure in the garden, our strict Japanese design has deteriorated into a more eclectic theme. We have a weakness for terra cotta pots, especially those with fungal growth on the sides that makes them look ancient. So while the original oriental aspect is still easily discerned, it competes with a look more suitable for a Tuscan courtyard.

All of this is to say we’re well into spring and life is good and each day for an hour or two I can sip my lager, count my blessings and forget the war and all that Bush has wrought.

Blog on!

Wild Bill