Magic Yard

When people see my garden, either in photos or in person, they almost always say, “You must have a green thumb.” But I don’t. Until I moved here, I was seldom able to grow anything, and when I did manage to keep a plant alive, it wasn’t for long.

The same thing happens here, to be honest. Plants die. I’d say about half of all plants I bought ended up committing harikari. (Hmm. No, not harikari. I just checked the definition of the word; apparently harikari is a specific way of committing suicide — stabbing a dagger in one’s belly and cutting horizontally. Eek. Not a way I would like to go and a physical impossibility for plants since they have neither daggers nor bellies to stick them in.)

The point is, plants that can’t handle the alkaline soil or the searing sun or the frigid winters or perhaps just me, end up being a vague memory. The plants that hang around are ones that thrive in this yard, and they happily spread out or reseed themselves so that during springs like this one, they make it look as if I know what I am doing, when in fact, it’s the yard doing magic tricks. These gorgeous Asiatic irises were here when I moved in and do well with benign neglect. The purple larkspur, as seen in the top photo and in the background of other photos, are an example of a flower that reseeds itself. Magic, for sure!

The beauty of gardening (besides the beauty of the garden itself) is that mistakes don’t hang around so that when things grow, it seems as if everything grows, when that is not the case. Also interesting is when the plants themselves decide what they want to be. Below is a yellow columbine that decided it wanted to be half white.

I’m lucky, really, to live in a magic yard. I plant things, water them, admire them, and that’s it. No green thumb. Just plants that like being where they are. Even then, some years, like last year, they struggle to put out any blooms. I truly have no idea why this is a lush spring for me. We had almost no moisture all winter, and not much this spring. What we have had this spring is springing temperatures — one day it’s below freezing, the next day it springs up to ninety. Amazing that anything can deal with such extremes!

My grass is doing well so far, and I tend to think that has to do with the skunks. They come around every night and dig in the dead patches of grass for grubs, so what is left looks greener. (In the picture below, you might be able to see clumps of dead grass — that’s skunk work. I used to be upset with them until I realized that they are aerating my lawn for me, so as long as they keep their scent to themselves, I’m okay with their digging.)

Now if I can only find something that will get rid of the weeds for me. Some years, when I’ve had a lush yard like this, come summer, most things were eaten almost to the ground by grasshoppers, leaving only weeds behind. If scientists could develop a grasshopper that ate weeds and left everything else behind, that would be a great service to us non-green-thumb gardeners. Meantime, I’m just grateful I have a magic yard that knows how to do what I don’t know how to do. I’m not the only one who likes my yard. These young turtledoves certainly seemed taken with the sight!

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

 

Garden Stroll

With so much the contention in the world right now, we all need a little peace in our lives, so come stroll with me and I’ll show you my garden. That garden, in itself, brings peace — at least to me — so I’m especially lucky that things are growing well this year.

Walk down the path, almost to the garage, you will find this lovely pastoral scene hiding behind the greenery.

I have no idea why the garden is so lovely this year. Winter was warmer but also drier, so those two conditions should have cancelled each other out, but instead, what I have is a lush springtime yard.

The larkspur, seen along the fence in the two top photos, are growing well, though that’s not a surprise. Larkspur does exceptionally well in this climate, and always I am glad to see the frilly foliage. More than even a robin, larkspur herald spring. It’s interesting that although I started out with only purple larkspur, each year, more colors bloom.

In the forefront of the pastoral photo (second from the top) is a yellow columbine. Oddly, there are also white columbines on that same plant. But that’s no problem. Any columbine is welcome!

Truly, the columbines are prolific and gorgeous this year. The orange wallflowers in the background of the following photo are hanging around longer than they normally do, which is a thrill for me because that sunrise color sure brightens the day!

I could post more photos, but I don’t want to overwhelm anyone (or tire you out with such a strenuous walk), so I’ll continue this garden stroll tomorrow.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

 

Creating a Peaceful Place

Daily writing prompt
Describe the most ambitious DIY project you’ve ever taken on.

The most ambitious DIY project I’ve ever taken on? That’s easy. Landscaping my yard.

When I moved here, the yard was dirt and weeds. It looked okay because the weeds had been cut down to make the house look good when it was put on the market, but still, just weeds. I hadn’t planned on doing anything to improve the property because I didn’t want to have to take care of a yard, but there were things that needed to be done, such as rocks laid around the house to protect the foundation. Then, when I found out I was tripping on all the holes and rocks among the weeds, I decided I needed walking paths of crushed rock to keep from falling and breaking my neck. Or a hip, anyway.

Admittedly, I didn’t do any of the rock labor, but the finished work gave me a sort of yard pride that seemed to demand further work. So gradually, I planted a few bushes, a few flowers, filled in some of the gardens that were created by the walkways, and things escalated from there.

I had a lawn mower, so I put in a bit of a lawn since I didn’t want the mower to go to waste (a silly reason for a lawn, I know, but it’s the truth). I had sod put in, but when that all died (the people I hired put in the wrong grass), I dug it up and planted a more heat-resistant strain of grass.

And so it goes . . .

What makes this DIY project so ambitious is that there doesn’t seem to be an end to it. There’s a lot of work just involved in maintenance, so that keeps me outside for a couple of hours each day, which makes me see how much more I can improve. I can see spots that need to be filled in or bits of color that will improve the looks of one of the gardens. And then there are container gardens and hanging pots to be replanted every year.

Yep, an unending project when in fact, what I had wanted was a yard that took no work.

Oh, well, there are worse things than a garden demands attention. And truly, I can’t think of a better use of my time than creating this peaceful place.

Besides, there all are the surprises I find, like this morning. Look! Crocuses!

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.