by Maryanna Gabriel
Have caught myself several times saying..."when I get home I'm going to..." It is when I think of the
garden. Then I remember. Hey, wait a minute! It is no longer mine.
After twenty-eight years of creating it, some part of me is still stuck in a garden bed in my old home on Salt Spring Island. A recent drive-by was a shock. The new owner had painted the house pink from a deep blue and the lovely cedar shutters with hearts cut out of them were a vivid white. The overall effect was one of a strawberry shortcake. You would think I would remember, but brains like to track old neural pathways it would seem.
My new garden is lovely and infinitely more manageable. I am delighted to have discovered a blooming magnolia tree. Now off I go to transplant a columbine.
 |
| A blooming magnolia tree. |