There is no better place to go for clarity and healing than the Garden.

At least, that's what I believe.

My gardens have been those healing and pondering places for me for over 25 years.

A place to dig in the soil and feel the sunshine on your shoulders whilst the birds chatter all day.

A place to plant a seed and watch it work its magic.

The poppies of this year have been spectacular.

Watching them grow and unfurl, as the bees are overwhelmed with joy, has been wonderful.

The true magic is that they now self-seed themselves.

I just wander around wondering where they will turn up.

As many of you know, my largest gardens are at the country house where I have lived for 22 years or so.

I call the country house, house 1.

But the garden I am sharing today is my secret garden that I built at house 2 which we bought almost 7 years ago.

I spend my time equally at both homes as they are not far from each other.

I started with the formal gardens at house 2 right away, but I built the secret garden in a hidden part of our land out back 3 years ago.

I began this garden in March of 2020 and it amazes me every day.

(Here is a story that was featured in In Her Garden magazine about how I began this garden)

The funny thing is, it feels like it has always been here.

Perhaps plucked from a dream.

I chiseled away at little hills with my flat head shovel, day in and day out, creating meandering paths with two painted blue arbors.

It was a wonderful way to keep busy in 2020 and keep me busy it did.

It has also repaid me endlessly.

The magic that happens back here in this hidden place is more than I can describe.

So, I do the best I can with taking some photos for you.

How could I ever describe the furry little bobbing heads of poppies...

Unfurling at first day light.

Beckoning me to stay, as the sun rises over the east arbor at the top of the hill.

This has been the perfect place to be this season.

Now it is warming up, as summer has arrived, and the very last of the poppies are left.

But I had a long stunning spring with them and the dogs, in this heaven that held us when we needed it most.

Pink and red intertwined so perfectly.

Dogs cozying up in cool spots.

Now just Teddy and me.

But when I took this photo, under the lemon tree was Matty watching me.

The Queen Anne's lace also self-seeds in my garden now, and so I just watch this fairy tale dream happen on its own.

This year it stopped me in my tracks.

I truly gasped a little each morning as I ran in for the early morning poppy unfurling.

The bees were always there waiting, 3 or 4 fighting for a poppy.

Who knew that bees loved poppies so much?

I really have had to pinch myself so many times.

So many poppy seeds, encouraged by all the snow and winter rains.

They do love a cold snap for best germination.

So, if you wonder where I have been, this has been it.

Hiding in the poppies.

Watching the birds and bees.

Feeling so full in my heart, so thankful, blown over by the beauty and gratitude of all the happenings of the garden.

One poppy pod at a time.

Sitting under the giant volunteer tree that I have encouraged with all my might.

Wondering how such delicate beauty can exist.

Amazed by it today just as I was when I started my first garden all those years ago at age 19.

The garden's art.

The garden's masterpieces.

Too many to count.

I just hide and watch, in my secret garden nook.

Baby quail and cardinals safe in this space.

The tiny Pierre de Ronsard cutting, now strong and huge, blooms over the first arbor at the top of the little hill.

Accompanied by a Pearly Gates rose on its right side.

I never thought I would have a tiered garden, with meandering paths and endless self-seeded blooms.

At the country house the critters munch on everything, but because I built a fence (with rattlesnake guard) to protect the dogs, there are not many critters getting in here.

And so, we can just roll on verbena patches in cool earth and bask in mother nature's beauty.

My heart of gratitude runneth over.

If you need me, this is where I will be.

The shift from spring to summer is in full force.

The poppies are nearly done and the cosmos, herbs, vegetables, zinnias and dahlias have taken over.

The garden knows what to do.

There is coreopsis everywhere, and we just picked baskets of basil for our first pesto night.

Under the lemon tree is a big flowerpot that I set a large basket on top of.

A mama quail found this to be a very safe place (under the basket inside the pot), and so my basket shall sit there protecting her in the little pot until the babies hatch.

I love seeing her through the basket weave, but she is easily startled so I am careful not to frighten her.

It seems that the words thank you are not great enough to say what I would like to say to you.

Your comments in my last post were deeply touching to me and much needed in my depth of grief.

I am still sad about Matty reaching the end of his life, so I have kept busy visiting my family and redoing a few garden beds.

The garden is my healing sanctuary.

I spent days out there just kneeling in the dirt, digging and planting, my greatest joy.

Every time I have felt a wave of sadness overcome me (as I have cried a thousand tears), I now remind myself that Matty had a wonderful full life.

That it was his time to go, and that, that is okay.

We all have a time, just like the flowers, the birds and the bees.

I have to find comfort in knowing that.

His life was beyond full and happy.

He was loved and protected and cared for every single day of his life.

I am soooo thankful I was able to provide that for him, a curious dog who many would have not been able to handle.

But I gave him my all, and eventually we found our beautiful space together.

I dedicated myself to him for the whole of his life.

He had cheeseburgers on Fridays and slept in the coziest bed ever.

He was loved more than he could ever know, or maybe he did.

And although I miss him deeply, I am trying to find an acceptance and comfort in those thoughts.

But what I want to say is, thank you from the bottom of my heart, for taking the time to support me during this last couple of weeks.

It really means so much to me

 

I always think about how the flowers live their whole lives in one season.

Maybe one day is like a thousand days to them.

And they enjoy it to the limit.

They nourish flying insects, they make humans happy.

The sun shines on them, the rain quenching them...

And I say to myself - 

Live your life like the flowers.

As though each day is a thousand days.

Do everything.

Don't miss the sunshine, the sunset, the baby birds, the laughs in the garden with my sister who is now visiting.

Don't miss any of it if you can.

And boy, do I try not to.

 

 There is something to be learned in all the happenings of life.

Sending you love and thanks you's aplenty from where the desert meets the forest.

I hope you are well in your neck of the woods

 

Love, 

Vanessa