The Joy of Gardens
- Evelina
- Nov 4, 2018
- 12 min read
Gorgeous beauties! Just as food nourishes the body, for me--flowers nourish the soul. One of my favorite things to do is to watch the garden go through its seasons... flowers bloom at just the right time, enhancing its neighbors, standing alone... sometimes when blooms come at the end of a hot summer, or showing itself bright and unique nestled in with other flowers. The garden is always changing through the seasons; it brings such joy! I come from a long line of avid gardeners, many with green thumbs! Flowers are not just for beauty, either... we cook with the Borage flowers that taste like cucumbers in a salad; Calendula flowers enhance tea and salads or are thrown into stir-fry's; Pansies decorate salads; squash blossoms hold ricotta cheese; green, curling garlic scapes make for savory stir-fry dishes; fresh herbs, Rosemary, Tarragon, Basil, Cilantro, and Oregano find their way into our kitchen to be dried or used fresh in salads, soups, stir-fry's, sauces and savory recipes.
This amazing blaze of glory appears each late spring, never failing to astound and amaze us! As carefree as any other well-established perennial, this spectacular, fragrant old rose grows more lush each year. It reminds me of the saying ‘Bloom where you are planted’. She's in a small plot of dirt, and rarely gets watered except during the summer, gets no rose food, or fertilizer, and is seldom pruned but she is just lovely and her fragrance is amazing! Given the absolute basics only, this rose thrives and blooms without any help from the Gardener or from me! This year, she is putting on a second bloom! She is such a delight!
“Bloom Where You Are Planted.”
A walk-about at the Sacramento City Cemetery was a wonderful excursion, despite the surroundings. I rode my electric scooter, and most of the paths I could easily traverse. I read with interest the names, dates and cause of death for the 1800's, noted the meager headstones and the large, impressive ones. Flowers are everywhere and in such colors! We spied this perfect poppy growing there. I took several shots and later would enter two of my photos in the 2018 Amador County Fair Photography contest, where surprisingly, I won 2nd and 3rd place awards for them. That was an amazing experience!
Some year I hope to enter the California State Fair Photography contest with new photos, and perhaps the Amador fair once again. Who would have thought that at 71, I would be doing a New Thing, something I've always wanted to do! Without the generosity of a dear friend, Connie Williams, I would have never been able to do this... she loaned me her Nikon D40 camera and I loved taking digital photos! Then she surprised me by telling me I could keep it. Oh my goodness, the selfless, beautiful hearts in some people! Thanks to Nancy Horst-Jones also as she walked me through the entire process, even helping me frame them!
I remember my grandmother's gardens. She had the gift of touch for her garden was magical. I was only nine at the time, but I will always carry the memories of her roses, and the dazzling dragonflies, emerald green and brilliant blue, darting in and out of the gardens. Their delicate wings would shimmer brilliantly in the sunshine as they rested upon her roses. I remember her trellised grape arbor overhead, heavy with beautiful, lime-green leaves, bunches of grapes dripping over the sides, progressing into summer until the boughs were heavy with the rich, sweet fruit. Ladyfingers they were--seedless grapes, long and oval and so very sweet. The scent of my flowers always take me back in time to her garden and brings my grandmother once more to my side, her beautiful white hair glinting in the sun.
My garden started out of a love for strawberries. The fruit, so rich with flavor, the sweetness of its summer-ripe juice almost overwhelming; it is perfect. I wanted to have strawberries whenever I desired them. So my boyfriend, Tim, bought some little ever-bearing strawberry plants in 1989, and he planted them in an old wooden box with open slats. We kept this on the little front porch in Wilseyville, his home near the river in Calaveras County. It was next to the peat pots of cucumbers and peppers, and we watered and cared for all of them throughout that first summer, from pots to garden. As I watered them, I always enjoyed seeing the stand of beautiful, white Calla lilies that flourished in the shade by the porch.
I was truly amazed at how that front yard garden appeared so lush and green, growing almost effortlessly. The secret was the soil, for Tim had been amending it for six years before he met me. I had daydreams of bringing the garden 'indoors', to enjoy it by creating kind of a lanai which I pictured running alongside the side of his little rental. I began to do pencil sketches of room additions, huge glass windows would line the front room, with a walled-in garden of glass just off the proposed bedrooms; each bedroom would have private access to the main garden. I penciled in names of the plants I would plant, and their location in this tropical garden. I worked out the floor plan of the little house in the woods around the garden of my dreams.
This was exciting! At this stage of my life, thirty something, I had found a new passion. I must have spent all summer working on that sketch, erasing, reworking, changing perspectives, putting it down, taking it up again. Chalia, his 10-year-old daughter who lived with her mother just a few miles away, would help me with it whenever she visited. I learned much about flower types, their sun and water needs, their hardiness and habits, and I discovered more and more about this fantastic world of gardening. From there I began to visualize garden paths; I wanted to create 'rooms', different plant environments, using age-old secrets to encourage them to bloom and survive in the yard. I still have those sketches today and they are some of my most treasured items, for they changed my life.
We moved from that little house rental on one quarter of an acre to a small cottage we bought with vaulted, knotty pine ceilings on almost five acres in 1992, a year after we married. We named it Dunn Farm. We had wanted to name it Done Roaming, or Dunn Roam'n but someone else had used that name. The land was gently sloped, wooded with pine trees, oaks, English walnut trees, apple and plum trees. The earth was a mix of clay and rock, not much grew except pine trees and Manzanita. The atmosphere created in this wonderful location, however, was magical. We slowly created gardens that first year, gardens I loved; in my mind's eye, I created pathways which would take me to my secret gardens with a happy profusion of plants and flowers, butterflies and humming birds, dragonflies and bees--a true cottage garden. We were determined to live off the grid on our new farm... growing most of our own vegetables, raising our own chickens for eggs, and even at that time, raising our own beef, ducks, rabbits and turkeys for food although we could never eat them as they became our pets, except for the calf and one turkey. After that, we couldn't bear to eat them! Some memories taken from my website of the farm follow below. Enjoy!
We were visiting Auntie Grace around that time, who has the greenest thumb I know! She first taught me to put little artifacts or statues into the garden, peeking from behind large green leaves, or under dainty foliage, placed just so. This is what I always noticed about her gardens, the just-perfectly-placed items, as if fairies lived there. As I wandered her gardens, I spied a little, yellow ceramic bird snuggled in the ivy, a tarnished gold saucer holding a wee bit of water for the butterflies, a single rose bloom dipping into its water, a piece of broken, azure blue glass placed beside the dark, little pebbles that lived under the Columbine flower. The effect was charming. I finally understood why my mother, grandmother and aunts loved gardening so! Cottage gardens, the soul of home gardens everywhere, I loved it!
An excerpt from our website Dunn Farm, Garden Notebooks!
Everywhere I look, flowers are blooming, roses so fragrant, colors like jewels. The setting sun illuminates each petal, seemingly pulsing with life, it simply glows. My first Nasturtiums are blooming, garnet and a golden orange color, spilling out of their pots. Seeds I threw to the winds in spring are growing tall with little, yellow flower bells twisting daintily down each stem. These were harvested from last year's flowers, volunteers, a pleasant surprise! Mexican sage with its wonderful velvety purple and white blooms survived the winter and is already almost nine inches high. The butterfly bush is blooming, frilly purple caplets lifting their colors to the skies. My beautiful Coreopsis--golden, with double rays, bloom continuously and grow anywhere. The Shasta daisies are exuberant this year, freely self-sowed everywhere, also, magically, along the path to the pond. I love how their glistening white spheres seem to glow in the dark at sunset's end.
Every season is so lovely, bringing such gifts I think cannot be surpassed, then another season arrives, bringing new delights and unimaginable splendors. My oriental lilies bloomed around June and July, fragrant and so lovely. Note: plant many many more of these. I had planted gladiolus (glads) in a two-week succession for two months which gave us blooms almost constantly until August last year. I see yellow, white, and pink glads by the fence, and a lovely peach-color glad. I extended it a bit this year, so I expect to have them blooming into November! The gladioli thrust through the sun-drenched soil, spears forming with incredible vigor, flashes of brilliance peeking through its sheaves of green. I never tire of this wonderful display. Note: They will swoon, so plant them in the rear of the bed.
Don Juan, an intense red climbing rose, with a deep fragrance, climbs our archway with the zest of a lover, flaring his magnificent colors while entwined in the nearby pine tree. This year, blooms come freely and quickly, a dazzling spectacle in the garden. I can hardly believe the loveliness in my gardens. The spectacular beauty of the budding Iris, the Peony and the Roses. The wild dance of the purple salvia swaying in the breeze, the creeping Tango dance of the Honeysuckle, Kiwi, and Clematis vines is divine. Dutch Iris are blooming--pristine whites, royal purples, and lavender chiffon hues, almost magical with their translucent petals. Perky pink Forget-me-not's bloom earlier than the blue type which self-seed in such a delightful manner. Columbine is just budding, Dahlias are pushing through the surface, and the Ajuga ground cover sports deep blue spires which look good in any garden setting. The bridal wreath Spirea is just blossoming, winter Camellias are just finishing their bloom, and Hydrangeas are preparing for the fantastic show of blooms to follow. And Oh! so much more!
The gardens have enchantingly become their own world, little beauties emerging in surprise places, vines embracing strong stems, stretching languidly towards the sun--ground covers twining their flowers among the strawberries and wild violets. The wonders and beauty I see as I step into the gardens, and around each corner, are awesome. The fat buds have turned into the most gorgeous blooms, their scent on the breezes captivating in the cool of evening. The hues and shades of the gardens brilliantly captivate my heart, senses and soul! There is so much blooming at this time, it is incredible! And the ones I had given up for lost due to our last, hard, winter storm--well, many have new leaves and some have become tall plants once more! I am sorry for the ones I pulled out of the ground and threw onto the compost heap. I needed to wait just a while longer. What looked like dead twigs have now surged with new life.
My white and rose-pink Raunaculus have just finished blooming, and in their place the early summer Daisies have come alive. They are in wide swaths in the knoll garden, a gentle white wave of luminescence in the dark of evening. I also have them all around the gardens, lining one pathway with strawberries at their feet, and a set of them flanking deep purple Iris. They peek through the Sweet Olive tree and tease the Foxgloves in the herb garden. Towards the pond garden, the Daisies line a path in the shade of the Black Walnut, which lights up with their presence. As I gaze towards the house and gardens, the whole sight causes me to almost stop breathing! It is so lovely, and serene!
The Bearded Iris have bloomed and gone, stately spires of ruffled purple, lavender, yellow, white, and wine hues. These were then replaced by striking, five-foot tall, orange Tiger Lilies, one bud opening each day, a shower of golden Coreopsis, magnificent Strawberry Foxgloves, and a pink and white Gaura. Pansies frolic among the impatiens, Petunias tumble over embankments, and the Lavender is in bloom. The fluted petals of the Sea Shell Cosmos are white, pink and rose, shimmering in the sun's rays. The regular Cosmos have reached their tall stature, feathery leaves with globes of lovely pink.
It is almost maddening to wander through the gardens as first one then another beauty calls out, wearing her ensemble with pride and exuberance, twirling and dipping for me to see. I hasten my steps, hoping to visit all before the sun goes down, anticipating the setting sun's golden light bathing the Jayne Austin rose-- perfection in an apricot wash of soft light and color. I rush about, but as I do, I catch a glimpse of a sparkle twinkling in the twilight, and kneel to find a single drop of water magnified on the gray, velvety leaves of Lamb's Ears, nestled in among the Raspberry Parfait Dianthus. There is almost no time! I am losing the light! But I breathe deeply and inhale the sweet vanilla scent of honeysuckle and the tempting, robust fragrance of Don Juan roses. And I need no light to visualize their existence, their singular beauty, in the coming twilight. (We moved in 2002; I miss our gardens!)
I felt the incredible softness of the pure white feather in my hand, stroked it and marveled at its strength, envisioned its flight on the back of a magnificent bird. My Aunt Glorya had been telling me stories again, of my family's heritage, my lineage, and of the pride and passion of our people. Stories I had to wait summers on end to hear, sequestered in her home in Fresno, CA... at first a skinny teenager sitting cross-legged on huge floor pillows, my attention rapt as secrets and treasures were revealed. We often talked late into the night. In later years, my husband Tim joined me in these late night talks; what a joy that was! He grew to love her as much as I did... and she loved him also.
Aunt Glorya was not just another auntie, she was magical, she made me feel important, special, and told me I mattered, that I was loved by Jesus and forever would be in her heart. At a time when there was turmoil at home, this was a great comfort to me. I had always loved being with her, in her garden, in the workshop where she had such amazing tools. I loved watching her make her yearly fruitcake, soaked for weeks in brandy and covered with cheesecloth. So many and yet, I never got to taste one because of the brandy! But it smelled so good baking! I have loved fruitcake ever since, but it is quite out of vogue now and I really miss it.
I learned so much from her... I saw my first Sweet Olive tree in her Fresno backyard... lush and sweet smelling with beautiful white flowers. I hope to have one in my own garden one day. She was like Grandma Mary and Auntie Grace... she could grow flowers anywhere and they thrived! There were surprises in corners of her garden that delighted and amused. She even had a banana plant perched against the patio column, large and beautiful with green bananas! I tell you, her garden was magical! My days with her will never be forgotten. And of course, I will always remember the beautiful flowers outside our home at Mather AFB; mom loved flowers and they flourished under her hand.
In 2004 we moved to a lovely, older stucco home in Sutter Creek, CA. The established gardens we eagerly added to, creating our own gardens, and caring for the lovely plants and trees already here. I love this Lilac tree that blooms every year and grows more beautiful! She's not the usual puffy type that grandma used to grow, but has many small blooms along her branches. It has a faint scent that is delicious, and the color is just lovely. The white Lady Banks rose we brought from our West Point garden entwines in her branches during the months of April and May every year. They are wonderful companions!
In the 15 years since we have lived in this rental on one acre, the Wisteria has grown more robust and incredibly more and more beautiful! The fragrance is one you will not forget soon... it lingers in the air and all other blooms, even a rose, will pale in comparison. Yet her twisting vines insinuate themselves into anything close by... trees, fences, shrubs, structures. She has overtaken several small trees already and 2 large ones. It is surely time for trimming this amazing vine; Tim is slow to trim it, however, as he loves to see it wind its way up into the trees. We have started a Wisteria from cuttings already... time for more trimmings to begin a new life... perhaps we can sell these or give them away. We have already given one to my daughter for her home. They are really majestic!
So many flowers, shrubs and trees continue to bloom and grow, making a lovely surround for the home we live in. We have often talked of moving as there is just so much land for Tim to take care of and water in the summertime. We looked for a bit, but have prayed about it and left it to God to direct our path. For now, this is still home and shall be until it becomes obvious it's time to move. We love each season here, often bringing new surprises every spring.
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