 |
| Willis L. E. Funk |
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Thursday, June 8, 2017
Six Summers Ago
I used to keep a different garden blog than this journal. One July six years ago I put up a post on that blog just in fun -- I didn't think it would ever come true, but I amused myself with a little humor at the time
Now it is coming true.
You can re-read it here: A Letter to the New Homeowners (written July 28, 2011)
Exactly six years later I could now write a real version of that letter to real people who are closing on this house August 2. We have buyers for our home, and the deal is inked. We're moving.
While it will be hard to leave this garden I created, in many ways I look at it as my lab. When I started in 2005, I knew nothing whatsoever about horticulture and I experimented on this blank lot, making many errors and learning so much.
Am I walking away from my mistakes? Yes, a little -- there are things here I wouldn't do now that I know more. Some can be adjusted, like plant crowding or bad siting, but major things, like poor mechanical design of the dry creekbed or the unworkability of a garden under a maple tree can't be changed.
There are other problems, and every garden has them. If I was staying maybe I'd tackle some of the issues, but really, I'm no longer up for rehab projects. My experiments have been rewarding -- really, richly rewarding -- but I'm ready to be done messing around, and let someone else figure out how this garden could be edited, or perhaps professionally managed, or I guess even . . . . um, . . . eliminated?
These are no longer my decisions. Meanwhile for the remainder of the summer here, I am thoroughly enjoying my favorite plants, all my successes, and every inch of this laboratory of rookie garden design -- what a glorious place it turned out to be, mistakes and all.
Now it is coming true.
You can re-read it here: A Letter to the New Homeowners (written July 28, 2011)
Exactly six years later I could now write a real version of that letter to real people who are closing on this house August 2. We have buyers for our home, and the deal is inked. We're moving.
While it will be hard to leave this garden I created, in many ways I look at it as my lab. When I started in 2005, I knew nothing whatsoever about horticulture and I experimented on this blank lot, making many errors and learning so much.
Am I walking away from my mistakes? Yes, a little -- there are things here I wouldn't do now that I know more. Some can be adjusted, like plant crowding or bad siting, but major things, like poor mechanical design of the dry creekbed or the unworkability of a garden under a maple tree can't be changed.
There are other problems, and every garden has them. If I was staying maybe I'd tackle some of the issues, but really, I'm no longer up for rehab projects. My experiments have been rewarding -- really, richly rewarding -- but I'm ready to be done messing around, and let someone else figure out how this garden could be edited, or perhaps professionally managed, or I guess even . . . . um, . . . eliminated?
These are no longer my decisions. Meanwhile for the remainder of the summer here, I am thoroughly enjoying my favorite plants, all my successes, and every inch of this laboratory of rookie garden design -- what a glorious place it turned out to be, mistakes and all.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
Funny Faces
I think 'Kintzley's Ghost' is so silly looking. It's a honeysuckle (Lonicera reticulata) but it looks like something a kindergarten class came up with when the teacher said "draw a flower on a vine." They drew green circles and put faces on them, and made them sunny yellow, then added shaggy stuff because you should.
It's a fabulous vision of what a flowering vine should be. It makes me laugh.
Later in the season those round green bracts are supposed to turn papery silver. This is the first year this vine has flowered like this for me, so it will be interesting to see.
I'll need to keep it trimmed a bit. The flimsy metal trellis isn't big enough.
What fun to see these flowers as I come down the front walk. I swear I can hear five year olds giggling.
It's a fabulous vision of what a flowering vine should be. It makes me laugh.
Later in the season those round green bracts are supposed to turn papery silver. This is the first year this vine has flowered like this for me, so it will be interesting to see.
I'll need to keep it trimmed a bit. The flimsy metal trellis isn't big enough.
What fun to see these flowers as I come down the front walk. I swear I can hear five year olds giggling.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)