by Maryanna Gabriel
Kind of a funny story. For a time, I lived in what they call a patio townhome. I know. What I didn't understand when I bought it was that I didn't own the ground it sat on. I know. I'm a little slow, but to be honest, the realtor was on holiday in the process which was conducted via long distance and, well, I guess that bit got left out. I just assumed.
Sorry for digressing. In the back of this townhome there was an eye-catching palm which added an exotic air to the place. I learned it was called a Windmill Palm. About four feet tall, it set off the patio beautifully.
In time, I discovered other exotic planting under years of neglect and I happily coaxed them out. Delighted by my secret garden, the garden thrived and I felt content....