The Garden Journal is the beating heart—unguarded, immediate. It’s not where the border performs, but where the gardener speaks: about setbacks, triumphs, mid-May confusions, and the sheer joy of a dahlia doing what it’s told.
Not all gardens are planted. Some are held in longing, shaped by memory and softened by the knowledge that they may never fully grow in our soil. This is one such garden.
Continue reading “THE TROPICAL DREAM: DESIGNING A SUMMERHOUSE FOR EXOTIC PLANTS IN A COLD CLIMATE”Act I: Gurgles and Glories (or, The Inlet Anxiety)
Barry arrived with purpose.
Installed beside Facility Alpha (the greenhouse), he was not merely a receptacle but a vessel of destiny. Charged with the sacred duty of collecting rainwater, Barry the water butt stood alert, corpulent, and slightly bashful beneath the guttering. And when the first rains came, he responded: a shy burble here, a tentative glug there—like a nervous baritone warming up backstage.
Continue reading “THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING BARRY (A Musical in Four Acts)”
Excuse me… are you on the payroll? No? Then what, precisely, are you doing loitering at the feet of my lilies and lurking behind the hellebores like you belong here?
Continue reading “MUSING FOR TODAY – TO WEEDS EVERYWHERE”
THE CULTIVATED STAGE 