Planning and Believing
By Bess Taylor
When a mild day graces our fair piedmont in early April, I am drawn to the garden in search of spring. What I find is quite humble indeed- the garden’s bone structure, the flowerbed edges, the low perennial tufts, the appalling patches of mud. The glad interruptions to these are the simple waves of daffodils. Their bright colors and sweet perfume are a balm to my winter-weary soul and an affirmation for two things every gardener must be: a believer and a planner. A daffodil bulb is planted in the fall when all of nature seems to be closing down. It is a plan for and a belief in the future.
It is a good thing that I first became inspired to start a garden in the middle of winter. If it had been during planting season (late April in our area) I would have rushed outside and planted things all over the place. As it was, I was forced to stay in and research everything I could get my hands on while I waited for the ground to become tillable. The more I read, the more I came to understand that what every good garden needs is a plan.
At first I was stumped. What did I want to see out there? My mother has a wonderful Japanese garden in her back yard that was designed by a professional. My wallet forbade me to even consider such an undertaking. I drooled over photos of formal castle gardens, but had to wonder how preposterous they would look around our little stucco bungalow.
After being charmed to pieces over the umpteenth cottage garden book, I finally realized that since I have a cottage -stay with me, now- how about a cottage garden? (You’d think I would have deduced this much sooner.) I began to envision two parallel rectangular beds of fine old fashioned perennial flowers, perpendicular to the back of the house and entirely visible from my kitchen window. Between the two beds I saw a modest “bowling green” accented with a small sculpture, maybe an old post with a flowering vine climbing up it.
As pictures formed in my mind, I translated them to paper and started getting a better idea of the colors and shapes I wanted to see. I ran string around stakes to plot out the beds, shoveled off the sod within those outlines, and got a friend to till in compost and peat moss to prepare a nice welcome for the plants. I ordered catalogues and visited nurseries to make choices about specific flowers and where I wanted to plant them. I made a garden map on graph paper to record my intentions. I kept in mind, however, that these plans were subject to change.
Sure enough, some of the things I ordered were sold out or unavailable and I had to make adjustments. But that’s the real excitement of gardening. You’re dealing with living things and living things are unpredictable. Some plants grow beyond your wildest expectations. Sometimes they grow too much and you have to cut them back or decide to let them rule in their glory. Some plants will die on you too, but then you get a chance to try something else in their place. So make your plans in pencil and stay flexible, but do make plans.
A garden does not need to be grand. Mine isn’t. But it was planning and believing that made it what it is: a relaxing haven where we can sit and marvel at the beauty of nature from the privacy of home.
copyright 2007 Bess Taylor
