First the dirt gets under the fingernails, then it seeps into your blood. That is how gardeners are born. Through contagion. Once addicted to gardening, there is no cure. None is sought.
Warning. . Tailgaters beware: I brake for gardens.
On days gardens are open, this obsession is not contained to the map provided by tour sponsors. This is one garden which reeled me in from an officially open garden down-street.
|Houses don't have to look-alike to be good neighbors|
This California cottage modeled a place-specific modern turn to the vernacular. Its charm is not from being pasted with artifice, but through carefully curated details. Gracefully aging swaths of shredded bark provide negative space to appreciate the demure peeks at the rich terra cotta stucco home.
|A white rose planted where the porch meets the garden serves as a beacon to the entrance|
A couple banded barrels filled with greens to clip for the kitchen. I wonder if there are studies proving gardeners eat better, are healthier and live longer than a neighbor who does not?
This garden has me hooked.
I left my card. Said a writer's prayer. Let the owners be interested enough to read some of my writing. Trust me to be respectful. May they want the story of their creation told to a larger audience. And if I am so fortunate as to be contacted by them- let me exceed expectations.
Until we Meet Again, Thank you for All you do to make the world more beautiful.