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Tales From A Rented Garden: An Oasis Under Assault
I for one, for the most part, am an advocate for rain, selfishly for my garden and specifically for those old Victorian Ostrich Ferns I brought from The Homestead. It has rained so much this spring that many farmers have had to delay putting their crops in, and so they are behind, and from forecast […]
MoreTrash to treasures and Whimsy of a Woodlandia Rented Garden
Grandma’s younger sister, the second to youngest, Aunt Helen, was a world traveller, retired public school teacher, a collector of bric-a-brac which she arranged on the walls, in collages, nooks and crannies, in corners, on tables. When you first walked in to her parlour, her sitting room, the dining room, whether it was down at […]
MoreJardin De Refuse For A Rented Garden Becoming Wabi-Sabi
A garden like this is a rough sketch, a thing becoming, a thing of chaos and order, spirit and shadow in the changing light, as well as changing goals, and changing up a few dreams. Being rented, just because it happens to be out my door, I never know absolutely 100% if I will be […]
MoreSome Tales From A Rented Garden, Of Time, Lessons, and That Lungwort Flowers
A garden has a lot to teach, of patience, compromise, of light and shadow and how to play with it, of creation, of beginnings and endings. You learn from a garden that indeed the eye does like to travel, as someone once said, in sweeps of singularity of colour or type, drawing you forward to […]
MoreTales From A Rented Garden: How To Love A Begonia
Not to toot my own horn, but I seriously rarely toot my own horn, so TOOT TOOT. I have spent all my personal time of late, my days off, my afternoons, mornings watching dappled sunlight sparkle, and I am enchanted, stunned with its beauty, this ethereal sense of watching the wilding world go by. Enchanted […]
MoreMy Japanese Inspired Woodland Garden
This year I am so enamoured with my garden, of how it has aged, filled in, the play of light on the foliage, the golden creeping jenny with the kelly green of the Plantaginea Hostas enmass, and the play of light through the Asparagus Fern in the plant stand I found. Tis definitely my little […]
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so they say
I could hear them singingturned off the radioopened the windowto their happy chatterwhat they had to sayof those first tendrils of springwakes my dusty tailwith bird chatter of amorous tonesof buildingof creationbeginningspossibilities, or so they say
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