Notes From the Garden
At this point I have studied or read about or pruned or renovated nearly every plant in the garden that wraps around the Victorian home I moved into almost two years ago.
At first I had no interest in the yard, other than it afforded the opportunity for outdoor yoga classes. But certain things would pique my interest - the pink jasmine blooming along the wall or the bunch of bananas that seemed to appear out of nowhere. I knew next to nothing about plants and had never grown anything in my life, but I was amazed by the bounty and beauty of what surrounded me.
What I would come to discover was that many people over the years had lived in this house and built this garden and created a chain of stewardship so that it now boasted persimmon and avocado and lemon trees, towering palms, bougainvillea bursting in pink and purple, orange and white, and fennel, rosemary, and lavender scenting the air.
When we arrived, no one had cared for the yard for a year, maybe more. The rose bushes were either dead or overgrown. Several potted plants had been abandoned in the yard, one of which was overturned, roots bursting through the plastic container. Vines colonized every tree, choking them from light and air.
Over the past year I have learned to water, prune, fertilize. I have staked saplings and wall trained climbing plants. I have learned to identify weak limbs and old wood. I have learned of aphids and white flies and rose rust. I have yanked and detangled and snipped asparagus fern from every tree. I have brought roses back from the dead and watched blossoms wax and wane. Today I value my time among the plants over most else in my life. It has taught me much.
We do not learn without mistakes. This garden has been so easy on me. It has helped me to see that no mistake lasts forever. It has been quick to regrow, fill in, or offer something new. Very little in this life is permanent. It’s encouraging to see this in action, little by little, change constantly evolving, mistakes covered over or grown from or sometimes even proven not to be a mistake at all. There are always new paths of growth to be found.
Someday I will no longer live here, and someone else will become the steward.