Volunteer Plants

I think it speaks volumes of a gardener who allows random re-seeding to take place in their gardens. The result is a carefree scattering of plants displaying their colors and characteristics wherever they please in no particular design. The look is a little more unkempt, sometimes even shaggy or untidy, and doesn’t portray that well-thought-out look of common city plantings.


A volunteer foxglove that pokes its head above clumps of columbine, or a tall delphinium that takes root right next to a walkway literally produces a bit of head scratching and raised eyebrows. Who would plant that there? We ask ourselves.

Generally, I find that gardeners who foster this approach to their outdoor spaces are hospitable folks ready and willing to accommodate others whenever necessary. They go with the natural flow of things at the risk of nonconformity appreciating the unexpected beauty taking place all around them.

I have to wonder if we, as individuals, would be so willing to ride the wind and then grow and flourish where we’re planted. What if God called us to leave our “mother plant” to catch the next breeze and root ourselves in unfamiliar soil? Would we be so willing to leave our elements of security as we know them? I’m not talking, necessarily about a physical move, but a dramatic change; taking on a different job, perhaps? What if we’re called to step miles away from our comfort zone by temporarily opening our home to someone who needs to get back on their feet? Perhaps it involves taking a deep breath and defying a particular fear or phobia, placing complete and total trust in God for his leading.

Maybe it’s taking a leap of faith by simply leaving behind an empty life and deciding to walk with the Lord.

Regardless, just like the seed carried on the wind determined to break free from its surrounding shell and struggle through the dirt toward sunlight, our Heavenly Father is with us every step of the way and allows us to bloom where we’re planted.

Joshua 1:9
...Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. (NIV)

Drive-By Gardening

Sometimes I just don't have an hour or FOUR to play outside:(  Life gets in the way and I work 4 days a week.  BUT, I have found that taking just a few minutes to plug into my outdoor space is just enough to energize me....for a little while, anyway.

"Let's go feed the fishes," I told Willy this morning.  He's the mini-dachshund that came into my life about 2 years ago and I haven't been the same since.

So, on our way out to "feed the fishes," I paused to push the button on my outdoor stereo, previously set to my favorite classical channel.  I took a sip of coffee and noticed the impatiens looked a little droopy on the patio table, so I gave them a good drink.  In the garden I grabbed my red dead-heading bucket and a pair of clippers and tidied up the spent blooms from 4 rose bushes and a foxglove before grabbing the hose to water the 5 large hydrangeas in containers across the back of the yard.

It only took a few minutes to hit all the high points, but the brief musical interlude set my mood for the day as did the perfect cup of coffee.

It's always so nice to begin the day in the garden.

Plant Your Heart in the Garden

I just wanted to stop by and mention that this year's community garden tour was great.....well, sort of. 

If I might exercise my right to speak freely, may I just elaborate by saying that for me the term "garden tour" evokes visions of the proud gardener/homeowner greeting visitors with a smile and maybe a blister or two.  Perhaps with a little dirt beneath the fingernails, they usher you into the private space they've lovingly tended; the patch of dirt that bears blood, sweat and tears, as well as the results of hours bent in the sun cultivating and creating. 

The garden should reflect the gardener who sets out with determination

to grow her creativity in the fertile soil. 

Likewise, while I appreciate all the beautiful homes on this year's community tour, I longed for the handprint of the gardener, if you will.  I looked for personality.  I looked for heart (and found it in one sweet, humble garden full of well-tended raised beds).

Granted, gardening DOES take time and effort; something of which many of us struggle to acquire.  However, when we choose to hire outside sources, we miss out on the true essence of owning a "garden".

You can't put a price on the satisfaction that comes with mowing the lawn, turning the compost pit, deadheading the roses, creating complimenting color combinations, or harvesting a garden full of vegetables or finding an innovative way to bring birds and other wildlife to your space.

I try to encourage people to plant what's unique.  Plant what you love and use it in an interesting, new way.

I've heard it said that if a root ball fits in a container, it's a container plant.  So, plant a container garden. 
Plant a kitchen herb garden.  Plant a memory garden or a sanctuary garden.  Why not an all-purple garden?  Or a white garden?  Above all, plant your heart in the garden!

God designed each of us with unlimited imagination, so why not use that gift to bless Him right back?  Give the glory to God by planting and creating beautiful spaces.

The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a

sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.

You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring

whose waters never fail.

(Isaiah 58:11)

(The beautiful rose pictured above is "Flower Girl."  She lounges freely, taking up an entire corner of the garden.  Thank you to my daughter, Elise, for taking such a great picture for me.)

My Quiet Place

Just wanted to share a few images of my favorite room in the house.  If I'm not cooking in the kitchen or out in the garage throwing in yet another load of laundry, I'm out here.  This is my back patio.  You can't hear it now, but there's calming, soothing Feng Shui music playing in the background and beautiful goldenfinches huddled around thistle seed at the feeder. 

This is my sanctuary - my quiet place.  My patio and garden are where I create.  I snip a few spent flowers heads here and fill in a little blank spot over there.  I love it because it's my little space where no one else's input is necessary.  It's my canvas to color as I choose.  I re-charge my batteries and renew my soul in the soil.  I take time to enjoy the many colors and fragrances that intermingle.  And when the slight breeze stirs through the wind chimes, I'm reminded of my grandmother and how she tended her garden, snipping spent flower heads here and filling in blank spots over there.  Perhaps it was those early years in her garden that planted the seeds within me to love and appreciate the life taking place among the roses, the lavender, the sage and iris.  Or maybe it's my need for tranquility.  For solace and peace, to quiet myself enough from the world to listen and enjoy the beauty of God's provision.

I've always thought that the reason flowers grew up, displaying their faces heavenward, was to return their glory to God.  With their healthy, vibrant colors, they put on quite a show for their Creator, bringing such joy to the earth and serenity to the soul.

Taming the Wind

The winds are whipping the branches of my pepper trees today and creating that ominous shooshing sound through the one lonely pine tree in the back yard.  Its old, sturdy branches move and sway with the breeze but hold up strong and defiant against the force.

I don't like the wind, but of course, it's out of my control.  It sets me on edge, and I find myself with an eye out the window expecting tree limbs or fences to fall.

With the breeze, I'm reminded that God works much the same way.  His will, His strength and His force is untamable.  We cannot capture nor control it.  As with the waves that lap the ocean's shore, the winds of change are ours to endure.  We may get tossed about, maybe even knocked to the ground, but it's that same untamable force, strength and will that picks us up and sets us back on solid ground.

So, I'll endure the wind today and try to think of it as a reminder of my untamable Lord. 

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power,

together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the

love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may

be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

(Ephesians 3:17-19)

A Life Well Lived

1913 - that's the year she was born.  What a life; to have experienced the '20's, the Great Depression, the birth of rock and roll, the era of television, microwave ovens, mood rings, earrings, dishwashers, computers, and movie theaters.

I think of the many, many Thanksgiving meals her hands have prepared and the countless shirts she's ironed for her husband.  How many times has she vaccuumed the same living room carpet or sat with her neighbor at the kitchen table and laughed over a few cups of coffee?  I think of her weathered hands searching through her Bible for her favorite scripture relying on God's strength and comfort in every season of her life.  It was her dish that was the most sought after at every pot luck gathering, and the beautiful fresh flowers that graced the altar each Sunday morning were hand-picked from her garden.  She gave tirelessly to her husband, her church and its people always giving of herself.

All the joys, the victories, the tears and struggles she's endured over the years; and all with unmeasurable grace.  What an awesome example she is for those of us still in the midst of life with many years of trials and triumphs ahead of us.

She's now face-to-face with Christ after 98 years of serving him.  I can only hope to be a fraction of the kind of Christian woman she was.  She will be deeply missed, but dearly admired for years to come.

In the Garden

I'm so excited about our community garden tour we're having next month.  I went last year, and absolutely loved the opportunity to visit some beautiful garden spaces of our local gardeners.

This year, I'm going to finish off the tour by opening my garden up to those in my church.  Some are into that type of thing - others aren't.  Either way, I'm excited about offering refreshments on the patio at the end of a warm spring day and sharing the fruits of my labors.

Of course, none of my visitors will ever know how my garden has evolved over the years.  It started out as a dirt patch interrupted by a fruitless apricot that inhibited my planting space but offered wonderful shade where the kids and I enjoyed many an afternoon snack. They won't see the footprints of my children when they'd pounce around my garden in their bare feet and toting little watering cans.  The greenhouse is gone now too, as is the little topiary tree I started from a cutting; the one that housed the little finch nest and provided shelter until each little bird was strong enough to fly away.

The memories held in my garden are dear to me.  The hours I've spent on my knees digging, planting, creating and listening to my thoughts, the birds, the water and the gentle breezes have emotionally tied me to my little sanctuary.  So much of me and the past 15 years is in there lying quietly just beyond the garden gate.  It's the place where I recharge my batteries.  It's where I go when I'm frustrated.  When I'm happy.  When I need a place to cry.  When I want a few moments of peace.

It's a small, quiet little space that would never even begin to compare with the gardens on our community tour.  But to me, it's the most spectacular one of all.