A Little Tour Through My Garden

There are many lovely places in the world, but no where quite as lovely to put down roots than this hillside in Northern California. Ten years ago, Ramon and I began creating this garden which started with clearing and terracing a good acre of hillside. Every plant, every tree, every sprinkler, and most all of the hardscape is the work of our hands. You could say we are connected to the land in a deep way--our souls are planted here.

George Bernard Shaw once said, "The best place to seek God is in the garden." I have found this is to be true. I have sat in many magnificient churches throughout the world, and relished the religious iconography within them, but I find these places serve more as reminders. They point to the face of God and seek to instill within us a sense of the sacred.

But a garden is the living, breathing handiwork of the Creator. A reflection of that glorious first garden. Eden. The home in which God placed man and walked with him among the trees. His essence lingers...

I've been tending one garden or other almost all of my adult life. This one has been under my care the longest, which no doubt makes me partial. Especially come spring time when everything is green and glorious over abundance. Sadly, few of the people I love, and long to share it with live close enough to see it in April, at it's jubilant peak. Were I inclined to joining social organizations, I could be a real show-off. A stellar member of the local rose association. There's a good one hundred and twenty of those large, thorny bushes out back that I'm going to be dead-heading real soon. As it is, I rather like it being a secret garden. Just me and the Great I Am--and the dogs, and the cats, and the chickens.

I could share little peak...

Outside the kitchen door sits Miss Knock Out, not a great rose for cutting, but nothing less than floriferous. She will look this dazzling well into December.

So will "Betty Boop" just down the walkway. She is in the fore-ground of my view from the kitchen sink. That's why I planted her there. Full time entertainment while doing dishes.

Out front, the very first sign of spring, a purple leaf, artifcial plum tree bursts into bloom...

Followed by the crab apples in white and pink, and the field of daisies which have naturalized down the slopes...

The first rose to bloom in the spring is an old China tea rose on the trellis next to...

the magnificiently perfumed wisteria.
A Bridal Wreath Spirea walks down the isle....
"Buff Beauty" and...

"Raspberries and Cream" look delicious draped over the fence of the dog-run.

And one of these days, I'm going to figure out Clematis classifications

so I can prune them correctly.

Altissimo bears five inch wide, single petals of Chinese laquer red

and has clumps of orange and cherry Watsonia nestled at her feet.

Mr. Graham Thomas, a well known David Austin rose...

looks stately in front of the green house.

The wickedly, prickly Pride of Madera over looks the sheep pasture below.

And everwhere in the garden, more clumps of Watsonia--bulbs that multiply so fast, I divide them year after year in little groupings and tuck them here and there for special effect.

Orange poppies and purple Ceanothus--a striking color combination on the slope. More daisies naturalized in the background. A mess to clean up after their lovely, short-lived show.

Dreamweaver on the trellis, next to the green house appears a little sparse this year.

Brown iris under a brown leafed crabapple tree, my favorite.

And up and down a walkway, one of many ruffled ladies...

And what would any garden be without Peace (Chicago) and creamy colored foxgloves...

or Golden wings?

Shot Silk is a rare treat...

And somewhere in the jungle, there's a monsterous African Honey bush in bloom. Obtained this plant as a teeny specimen one year at the San Francisco Flower and Garden show.

Here's Miss Flutterbye, a saucy little red-tipped bud when first in bloom...

which opens to a single petal yellow rose, paling softly over time.

And Miss Brunner. Cecile is the sweetest, tiniest little rose, with a delicate, peppery smell. She graces us only once a year with her presence, but her appearance is always memorable.

Here she is with her fluffy buds open in the morning sun...

And there in the background, next to her friend on the left, the gorgeously droopy, Victorian rose, Eden, who makes incredible bouquets, lasting a good week in a vase.

But you really must see all ten feet high and wide of Cecile spilling over the chain link fence to truly appreciate her. I'm fond of this rose called, Living Easy...

she sits next to a similar beauty, whose name, for the life of me, I can't remember.

And all of my orange roses grow under a small Gage plum tree, so full of tiny fruit at the moment, the birds are going to have an easy feast in a few weeks.

"Robusta" aptly named for a rapidly growing Rugosa rose. Mom gave me one of the specimens I have for Mothers Day, the other two were easily propagated by runners.

Aloe Vera-- If ever a plant hailed from outer space, this one does.

Looking down on one of the terraces in the back of the house...

And over the front driveway, with one of it's massive western Poplar trees...

At the end of April, the grasses on the hills are beginning to turn golden, but the pond is still full and visited by all manner of wild creatures. And goodness knows, I have lots of weeds to pull!