Mon jardin, mon coeur

How I love our small, colorful gardens! On nice days, I am outside for hours: fussing, pruning, pinching, weeding, smelling the luscious roses, admiring the palette of yellows, pinks, purples, blues, and white (with a dash of orange lilies at the moment) that splashes across our front yard.

This year the perennials are so robust, it's hard to believe it was just over a year ago that we started these gardens from scratch.

Late June 2008:



Early August 2009:

Please click to see this larger for best effect.

The small, forlorn Asiatic lily stalk I plucked from a markdown table and planted late last summer has turned into this showpiece:

Can you spot the tiny shiny green bee? Click to see the photo larger, and you can't miss it! I didn't notice it until I was editing this batch of photographs.

In the mid 1970s, my colleague Martha M. gave me a sprig from her mother's variegated impatiens. She told me they were miracle plants, and she was right. I've grown these hot-pink babies from cuttings ever since – descendants all of that original plant in Pennsylvania. They grow several feet high and bushy without needing to be pinched or deadheaded, and do equally well in the ground and in large containers. Each October I take cuttings to root indoors and pot over the winter, continuing the cycle. I love these plants for their own exuberant selves, and for the memories and friendship they evoke.





Our backyard raised bed yields delicious things to eat.



A garden is more than patches of soil containing plants. In my case, it's a living, moving, breathing grove for joy and contemplation. It's a window into my heart. It restores my soul.