I was on vacation, not thinking about gardening at all.
Just taking walks and drives along the curving coastal roads.
The beach was lovely, everything a beach should be.
But it was the woods that completely captivated me.
And, of course, brought my mind back to my little piece of land.
How could I achieve that wildness, that sense of freedom,
even moodiness?
I quite fell in love with this driveway.
The curve, the mystery, the glimpse of water and lawns,
the somewhat shaggy, unkempt, and oh so perfect
edging of wild ferns and salal.
And then there was the delicious creepiness of these woods.
The unity and conformity of the coastal grasses on the forest floor
is a perfect contrast to the beautiful mess of the trees themselves.
In that harsh environment, the winds don't allow for any weakness
in the tree branches,
and the moss thrives and covers everything like a carpet.
The symmetry of the alders lining this lake,
again, with that wild tangle of grasses, ferns and scrub maple.
I'm thinking my garden needs a touch of the wild.
Does that mean I'm going to stop weeding?
Certainly not, although you might ask me again, come August!
But maybe I can plant some coastal style grasses around my birch.
Maybe I don't need to edge quite so perfectly,
give my plants more space to grow with abandon.
Space to grow with abandon.
Expecting, not perfection,
but all kinds of beautiful messes.
Sounds like a good philosophy of life, to me!
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