Perspective

I never planted a single thing at our other house. Well, maybe a lone bare root rose received as a Christmas gift. We believed we would only be there for a short time so what was the point?

The fact that we ended up staying there for 10 years and never put down roots, literally or figuratively seems somehow bereft and desolate. It's human nature to leave a mark - our stamp on the land - from cave paintings to today's wallpaper... and gardening, the planting of things fulfills a need that cannot be articulated. It's well documented, but no mere writing can truly express the phenomenon, the link - to the past, to the future, to the earth and to the powerful life force of the planet.

I can't say I am well in sync with the world now because I "garden." Far from it... today's society allows us to live a life that is far removed from reality, completely out of touch with food sources, and the pace does not allow much time for introspective connectivity.

But I am closer than I was. At least now I have contact with the touchstone.

In the beginning I set out to "landscape" the front yard... to create a sort of proverbial showpiece American front yard... make it nice for the neighbor across the street to look at. I did not call it "gardening" because I intended to do it once and not revisit it... I did not want to be a "gardener" which carried with it connotations of weeding, of gaudy annuals, and a firm footing in a "middle class" ordinary-ness.

I wanted something different.

I also found the prospect of beginning the project to be daunting - bloom times, planting depths, water needs, foliage compatibility... the designer in me did not want to fail. It had to be perfect (something I've gotten over).

So I studied, and learned. Primarily from magazines. But I also learned that you just have to START. Maybe you couldn't go wrong. I learned when I planted the first plant, a jasmine from Shirley, and I learned from watching Logan plant his "fort" - a hole in the tall grass in the back yard. And when it bloomed and the sun shone through the godetia, it was a thing of beauty. And it was inspirational. If something so small made such a difference, maybe there was hope.

And so it began. Planting, digging, planning, and gradually shaping the structure of the yard.

Solving problems like hiding the chain link fence, making a narrow pathway interesting, keeping dogs out, and then in, creating privacy and play areas led to design solutions scribbled on napkins and scraps of paper. Design solutions became a working plan which evolved over the years.

Part scrapbook, part sketchbook, and part diary, that process is chronicled and encapsulated within the pages of these garden journals.

The first book is falling apart, having been opened too many times. I think about re-binding it. Maybe someday. For now, it will be saved here.