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Imperfect Gardenerby Adina Sara |
In the center of my sprawling garden, in front of a wall of bamboo and near a mature plum tree, a large space of ground lies fallow. Covered with various mulches, pebbles, and ever-present bamboo and plum tree debris, the space is not exactly the jewel of my landscape. I have attempted to set furniture down and use it as an outdoor eating area, but chairs tilt awkwardly on the uneven surface, and bamboo fronds land in my coffee cup. Even oxalis fails to grow there. It is a place where nothing seems to want to be. A landscaper visited my garden and noticing the empty space, offered what seemed like a great suggestion for improvement. She proposed building a large mosaic of geometrically varied stones, a beautiful "outdoor floor" that could hold the heaviest wrought-iron furniture, even double as a dance floor. It seemed like a grand idea. The estimate was fair, given the scope of the project " materials alone close to $1,000. We penciled a date on our calendars, pending my ordering the stones. But each time I started to make the call, something made me stop, as though my garden were whispering in my ear " STOP " don't do it " leave me alone.' I showed the space to a gardening friend, hoping for a new perspective. "What's wrong with it?" she asked.' "It's dull and flat and ugly. I can't plant anything on it because of the bamboo. And it's right in the middle of the garden." I then described the landscaper's vision " a 10' by 10' limestone landing pad bordered by solar-powered lights. She listened politely and then laughed, pointing out the rest of the garden: the uneven brick flower beds, the bumpy surfaces of my mismatched stepping stones, and the bits and pieces of colorful pottery that filled in where flowers were fading. With very few words, she made it quite clear that a symmetrical stone floor would look mildly ridiculous in the midst of my whimsical hodgepodge of a landscape. It was an important lesson and one I should know by now. Gardens have personalities and tastes of their own. They take on the colors and shapes of the people who tend them. They reflect their owners' interests, lifestyles, sensitivities. It is so easy to jump on someone else's idea of what is beautiful, instead of listening to the beauty in our own gardens.' I cancelled the appointment with the landscaper, sat down in the shade of the empty space, and felt a great sense of relief. A breeze sent a bamboo frond flying down on the surface next to me, as though in agreement.' |
