PUSHING THE BORDERS

I see my garden as an escape from the ordinary, an oasis nestled in the humdrum.

Gosh.

An interesting question - now it has been ressurrected!

I am faced with an almost unresolvabIe dichotomy. I see my garden as a long-term dynamic experiment but, at the same time, aspire to it becoming a work of art. The collector in me wants to constantly try new plants which endlessly throws the planting out of balance to the irritation of the designer in me. But perhaps there is hope. As I get older I find I need different things from it - lower maintenance becomes more important than contrasts in the planting with, for example, more emphasis on large drifts of tried and tested ground cover rather than a patchwork of things that need cosseting 'just to see how they do'. I am trying to spend more time relaxing in and enjoying the garden rather than constantly being busy in it. I've been making a big push in recent years towards replacing plants that need irrigation. I guess eventually, out of necessity I will stop tinkering with the planting and leave everything to finally mature meaning the designer in me is ultimately going to win. Just maybe, the garden will reach the harmony I aspire to and, with luck and clean living, I will still be here to enjoy that. However the nerd in me isn't going down without a struggle and I currently have a line of new potted plants waiting to go in the ground as soon as my fragile lumbar is up to it again. It keeps me off the streets, anyway. :)

It's always been if I hadn't planted it a good chance I would never see one in any local garden or even the botanical gardens. I still remember the day in the early 80's when I saw a Bangalow at a pee wee golf course in Oakland. How could something so tropical looking grow here? That was the start :lol:

My requirement of my garden has changed. When I was a teacher with a reasonable salary and a big garden it became my aim to have it filled with all manner of rare and choice things. This extended not just to the garden but the erection of a huge double glazed free standing consevatory filled with an amazing collection of primarily rare variegated agaves. This became an obsession on which I spent thousands on rareties shipped from across the globe. My aim was to have one of the best collections of plants you don't see in other people's gardens in the area. I think I was well on the way to achieving this. Then I got ill and had to give it all up which broke my heart. I took with me what I could to my new tiny (in comparison) garden and tried to continue in the same vein. I soon realised that my new place could only accommodate a fraction of these rare plants. I have since retired but as my wife is still a teacher with a number of years yet to go, I find myself still working full time but as a healthcare assistant on a fraction of the salary, despite it being technically full time. The way my shifts work mean that I get 7 days off every other week so still have plenty of time to garden. Now, however, I fill it with plants I like rather than those with rarity appeal. With almost a week af back-to-back, back breaking 15 hour shifts, I am learning to see my garden as a space to unwind in. And it's working. The obsessive nature of my collecting is dwindling, though I still get very excited when I see a plant I want. For example, the Secenio confusus I saw at Powis Castle which I posted on here, I just had to have. And so I do now have it. Old habits do die hard but they do die ... I have just bought a load of spring bulbs in the sales and I'm sure I will enjoy them as much as the rare succulents I used to covet.

I want to see beautiful vistas from every window in my house, and plant accordingly. I do prefer uncommon versus common plants, but the designer in me doesn’t abide “one of this, one of that”, so visual unity comes with repetition.

David F wrote: ↑Tue Dec 24, 2024 7:21 am I want to see beautiful vistas from every window in my house, and plant accordingly. I do prefer uncommon versus common plants, but the designer in me doesn’t abide “one of this, one of that”, so visual unity comes with repetition.

Agreed.

If any collector tendencies exist in me then they are overwhelmed by my obsessive compulsive need for harmony.