By now, we are settled into our new apartment. We’ve mostly hung everything we want on the walls. I’ve made a habit of buying flowers and keeping a vase on the dining room table.
But one thing has been forced to wait: my patio garden.
You’ll remember that, in Virginia, I had a yard. And in that yard, we planted a garden with cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and herbs. Our rosemary bush was the size of a living room chair, always giving us a plentiful supply of aromatic herbs.
Since landing in California, I have missed the ability to garden. What good, I ask you, is perfect weather and ample sunshine if you aren’t growing things in it?
On our first trip to the local farmers market, I bought a little rosemary plant, re-potted it in good soil, and it has been standing alone on my little bistro set on the patio. My lonely rosemary is a testament to all that is lacking on our patio – life, flavor, scent.
A former professor who is now a friend of mine was kind enough to send me some adorable garden accessories (that she made) and a wonderful book on container gardens in small spaces (like my patio).
I read through the book, I’ve made notes, begun doing research, and I’ve noted the levels of sun exposure at various points throughout the day. I’ve gotten spun up about the depleting number of bees. And (Heaven help me) I joined Pinterest after finding some really cool boards about gardening structures build out of reclaimed and recycled items.
There’s something exciting and daunting about starting from scratch with a blank slate. Give me a recipe and I’m fine; give me an empty space and tell me to pick flowers, and I get antsy (ha!) and intimidated.
Something I’ve realized a lot lately, however, is how cyclical life and nature are. If my parsley doesn’t grow well the first time, I can re-plant it. If I don’t like the color combination of flowers, I wait awhile, transfer, and revise the garden appearance. Like food, a garden does have ample opportunity to fix mistakes, or make them work in another way, or grant you forgiveness for messing up and having to start over.
So here it is, my little garden plot, my balcony that I hope will transform into an oasis. I dream of nectar-drunk bumblebees, tiny little hummingbirds, vibrant flowers and aromatic herbs. Because I’m supposed to come up with a rough draft of my garden’s appearance, I’ve done so with the help of my computer’s pain program to show where my fig tree will go, my hanging baskets, my window box planters, and my plant stand.
My lonely rosemary won’t be lonely much longer.
Want to follow me on Pinterest and see my garden’s progress (along with my ideas for wishful thinking)? Click here and follow me (or pin my board or whatever the Hell it is we do on Pinterest). (Also, I promise there will be pins on the board soon.)