Hundreds of people bought tickets to see the six gardens on the tour.
It was perfect weather for meandering down a garden path and admiring June flowers – the most refined and feminine, in my opinion.
You couldn’t tell that this corner of the yard had majestic trees that toppled in Hurricane Sandy, leveling the shrubs that grew at their feet. Plants have grown vigorously with ample rainfall and a long cool Spring, filling in spaces that looked bereft.
It’s beguiling to peer beyond someone else’s garden gate. Often the grass seems greener in someone else’s yard on a day like this. There seems to be a space in our soul that longs for an idyllic place to hang our hat. A garden can be a place of profound beauty and solace. We all struggle with monumental challenges in our lives, interspersed with fleeting moments of profound peace and happiness. The truth is, we are all fragile and gardens are good places to find respite.
This is the vegetable garden. People were particularly fascinated to see how bountiful and pretty a couple raised beds can be. We don’t have to depend on growing our own food anymore to survive, but still, it’s intriguing to see vegetables we love to eat, prospering in a backyard.
We shared old fashioned watercress sandwiches and sweet tea. Garden touring requires sustenance, and gardeners, a friendly lot, are eager to chat while admiring the diversity of plant species.
Jim has been rebuilding two rooms of our home during his prized free time. This is a plywood board, covering an opening where a set of french doors had been removed. Two talented young ladies painted a charming faux window set into the garden. I will be reluctant to replace this with a real window.
It was a very special day.
The weather began to deteriorate by late afternoon, when I closed the garden gate to visitors. As the rain began to spot the terrace, I ran through the garden clipping the flowers that had performed so magnificently through the day, but whose beauty would be trounced by driving rain. Tropical storm Andrea was storming up the eastern seaboard, heralding in the hurricane season. Steady rain overnight has continued through the day today with intense gusts of wind.
A garden is a transitory thing. When the rain ends tomorrow, and our aquifers are replete with five inches of fresh rainfall, I will put on my boots, pocket my secateurs, and attempt to create an idyllic place, safe from the troubles of the world.