My favorite kind of garden? Part I

A question I was asking another gardener friend, what is your favorite kind of garden? Hmmmm I thought what would my answer be?

I started this blog with a desire to share some of my passion about gardening. I have experienced some of the most magical moments of my life in a garden . I am obviously a visual person, and what I see impacts me a great deal. Some of my very first memories have to do with gardens. I remember seeing daffodils blooming in spring outside my back porch when I was fairly young. I was fascinated by their bright yellow colors popping up in the middle of our cold, wet, slushy New England springs. My Italian grandmother lived with us and all of the gardens around the house were a result of her green thumb. My first memories of her gardens forever remain vivid in my mind. She had a lovely circler rock garden with ground phlox, and hens & chickens on the south side of our house. All along one side border in the back of our yard were pansies. I remember walking up and down that border intently studying all the pansy faces. Each one its own little piece of art work. On the back east side of the house I remember her gladiolas. They were her favorite. Mom thought them old fashion, but on the back east side of my new home, I am growing gladiolas! Some of my very first memories are of the back of my grandmother’s chubby knees as she bent over her tomato plants with her house dress on and her apron tied around her waist, collecting the fruit of her labors, sometimes in the bowl of her apron. New England itself presented all kinds of garden wonders for me to explore. Across the street was a stand of very old lilac bushes where we literally played fort in the midst of heaven sent laden branches, swaying back and forth in the breeze as we climbed in them. In the spring while waiting for the bus to come, across from our bus stop was a little forest carpeted with violets growing wild. I remember picking great bunches of them to my utter delight. My other spring favorite was the neighbors Lily of the Valley patch. We were allowed to pick one sprig to carry with us and sniff all day long. These memories were all before the age of 6.

After we moved just a few blocks away, I started noticing gardens a bit further a field. When we would walk to the corner grocery store for our candy bars, and ice cream I would notice all the gardens along the way. Some of the gardens were lavish and formal, and others ordinary and plain. The ones that caught my attention over and over again though were the gardens that were tended by little old ladies it seemed, with lots of lush flowers spilling out in every direction, in every season.

So to this day in every garden I have ever owned, (four) I have planted daffodils, lily of the valley, lilac, pansy's and at last my grandmothers gladiolas. So I think one of my favorite gardens, is the one in my minds eye of the memories and the heavenly scents of days gone by.

Here are some pictures of my previous garden, that seemed to become the embodiment of those memories.

North Side Garden