A Well-Loved Garden
Anyone who knew my father knew he loved his family and he loved his garden. Even if you did not know him, he would tell you these facts within five minutes of being introduced. I sometimes think he defined himself by my sisters and me, and by his yard; in his mind, we were all works of art.Dad always taught us to try everything. And so it was with his garden. He welcomed all. Any seed that fell was allowed to grow, any animal who dropped in was allowed to stay and often fed. A pair of mallards used to swim in his pool; he bought them duck food and gave them fresh water. Only after a neighbor complained about the duck droppings, did he reluctantly shoo them off. As far as I know, this was many years ago, but yet, they dropped in one afternoon, not long after he died. The pair sat by the edge of the pool as if paying respects, then flew off. We haven't seen them since. (Of course, Boris is not as welcoming as Dad.)
Dad's open-armed gardening philosophy, however, made for a bit of a mess. The yard was well-loved, but not particularly well-organized. He was out every day raking and clipping. He also moved plants from here to there and then to one more place, fitting sprouts and shoots into any space with an open bit of dirt. Random does not even begin to describe the garden we found two summers ago.
Last summer, in our first few months as owners and honored caretakers of this paradise, we focused on the front yard. His beloved dogwood was diseased. It went. The side hedge was overgrown and made the yard closed and small. It went. Most of the other hedges were too tall, yet straggly. Volunteer plants were everywhere, crowding each other out. Many of them also went.
In their place, we had light. It entered the house, it entered our lives.
We learned what Dad knew. This is magical land.
We kept camellias and gardenias, cleaned borders, then added color.
We met our neighbors as they walked by. They cheered us on and gave us strength to tackle the backyard this year.
We had to get rid of more trees than we wanted, but many were too old and diseased.
John took down the last of the old cypress trees, all trying hard, but sadly, sick beyond repair.
We put in Heavenly Bamboo. There were lots of these growing all around the property. In Dad's tradition, we transplanted.
The pool had leaks. We had to drain, fix, clean, and put in a new filter and pump. John also put in lattice work on which we'll grow jasmine to hide the equipment.
This was matched by an arbor for the grape vines that grew untended until now, and a small fence to delineate the veggie garden.
I am lucky to be married to a handy handyman. He's done wonders and he's only just begun.
The veggie garden is XX's place. She's chosen the plants to go in there. No surprise, we have lots of eggplant, chard, and squash, plus blueberries and tomatoes. She dug the holes, she arranged the plants. Rather than lines, the plants are in arcs and circles ... but it's hers.
We have Mom's favorite flower
And Dad's
Inheriting property means inheriting obligations. You can choose to ignore or you can choose to honor, either to the letter or with alterations. Alterations are always more interesting.And so while some of the volunteers are here as long as they wish, like this peach tree that came up out of a cut-down hollowed stump ...
... seven trees are gone, including Mom's favorite plum tree, untended so long that it had grown too tall to enjoy the fruits.The roses all stayed, but rather than being around the yard, they are in a line along the now cleared out back fence. The river rocks scattered near the corner now lead to a mystical place under the lemon tree that must have given us 200 lemons. So far.
The hummingbird feeder is full and waiting. We've planted lots of butterfly/hummingbird friendly flowers around the yard. I hear them calling, I saw them looking at the feeder this morning. It's a matter of time.
The loquat tree has been transplanted so it gets more light, the area near the pool cleared for native wildflowers and irises. 
Mom and Dad talked about a gazebo in the back corner. We're making an eating patio. It means John's had to clear dead trees, then dig out and line a spot for cement to be poured before he covers it with stone. 
He's also cleared space on the other side of the yard for a hot tub. Not this summer, but hopefully next. The patio is being cleaned and repainted.The more we do, the more we see. Our plans grow bigger, our hearts as well. We all work together. John by far the hardest, but XX is always out there doing her best, helping to clean, dig, cart away excess; she does her YeYe proud.
It is our special place. Our home. And a well-loved garden.
