“The Poetry Lady’s Garden”

I have taken care of a certain garden on the bay for a long time.  First it was Joanne’s garden, with 2 long curving lawn beds and an enviably large driveway circle, originally designed by Dale Browse.  (Digression: any circular driveway garden would be enviable to me, but this one is big enough to have trees and paths).  The garden sat fallow for a few years when Joanne moved, and then the new owners, Laurie and Mike, hired brand X gardening company who whacked down the borders in midsummer with a weedeater  instead of weeding them.  Discouraged, Laurie let the garden sit for a year, then encountered me at work at the Wiegardt Gallery garden and asked me if I were taking on new clients.  I said absolutely not, till she told me her garden was potentially special and I realized by her description where she lived.

Laurie’s garden has given me much joy over the last few years, especially last year when it was on the 2009 “Music in the Gardens”  tour.

tour day at Laurie’s

water music, with horses

Laurie asked that the tour program guide people to “The poetry lady’s garden” and even though a chronic illness prevented her from being in the garden that day, she had placed poetry throughout the borders and hidden in the woods.  One poem, “My Lily Maker”, brought me to tears; it was about the lilies I had planted for her over the years.

I knew I would be losing this garden as Laurie’s health would eventually require  a move to the warmth of a California hacienda.  Their house has now been sold and sometime this year they and the horses will be gone (although Laurie hopes we will come to California in the winter to help with a new garden). Will this garden be lost to me again or will the new owners want to hire us? I hear that they like gardening…which could be promising unless they want to do it all themselves. And will they like the garden’s eccentricity?

the garden in spring

the garden in midsummer

We  call it The Jurassic Garden because, like me, Laurie loved giant plants so the manure-enriched border featured monstrous Joe Pye Weed, Filipendula, Helianthius ‘Lemon Queen’ and others that towered over our heads.  (You might guess that eventually I regretted the Phormiums.)

So…last Friday we did the big spring clean up and it turned out to be a poignant day. We were shocked to learn that both the beloved and pampered dogs (a chihuaha and an elderly rescued greyhound) had died tragically over the winter, caught by critters (coyotes?) when they went just outside to do their business at night.  I am still finding it hard to fall asleep while thinking about the loss of these dear canine friends of mine. A new chihuaha has found a happy home there but did not take a shine to me at all.  And the gardening day tore at my heart a bit.  Without the scent of dogs in the garden, deer are nibbling at the edges.  I don’t know who will be there to see the lilies bloom this year…possibly Laurie and Mike, who are staying while they search for the perfect horse property in California…possibly the new owners, who will move from out of state…possibly not me.  Even though we are overbooked as usual, this would be a hard garden to say goodbye to. I would miss Laurie, Mike, the lilies, the view of the bay, and not least of all, the five horses, Pinta, Katchina, Ellie, Moonie, and the miniature horse Dewey.

Here’s the usual spring clean up story:

before

after

This time we chopped the dang phormiums (two huge plain purple ones, one medium striped one) down to the ground.  I reminisced about an early photo I have when we first came back to this garden; the Phormiums were tiny and I cannot remember if I was the culprit who planted them.

We were amused by this creature who fit well into the Jurassic garden theme…with a little imagination:

creature

island before

island after

We cut back the ferns and the fuchsias on the woodsy driveway island.  December’s hard freeze has killed the fuchsias back almost to the ground so they will be starting over.

And I have to close by saying how much I will miss these two friends of mine:

Eddie

Wizard

Rest in peace, you sweet beloved dogs.