Sunday 31 May 2009

My Secret Garden

Writing Adventure Group Exercise

“WAG #14: Do-Overs” Thanks to Carol for the topic idea! (This one is more of a mental/emotional exercise than observational, but you get bonus points if you can somehow tie this to a person you can see and describe OR a physical object.) Think of a time where you’d like to change what happened - whether it’s to get that witty retort in or to say something you never got the chance to say. Write how it should have been and compare it to the reality.


My Secret Garden

I have just rescued my potted fig tree from under a blanket of convulvulus, and moved it to a space next to the front porch. This represents an admission of defeat. It was meant to be the centre-piece of a little hideaway garden between the side of the house and my neighbour's fence, screened from the rest of the back garden by bushes, and from the prying eyes of passers-by with some bamboo fencing. The plan was to create a little Mediterranean haven in rural Worcestershire where I could sit, protected from the world, luxuriating in the perfume of honeysuckle and lavender.

Sadly, the dream has never become a reality. The lavender bushes died in one of the wettest summers on record. The bamboo fence blew down in the winter gales, and it half stands, half lies on the ground, a monument to my idleness in not removing it. Beyond it the little square of ground, for which I had such great plans, has been taken over by nettles, feral aquilegias and the smothering convulvulus. Only the honeysuckle climbing up the fence blooms bravely amid the chaos, and I can take no credit for that; it was planted by a previous occupant of the house, and survives in spite of not because of the present one.

I should not be surprised at yet another failure to realise my plans for a garden. I have an unbroken record of horticultural disaster stretching back nearly four decades, but I continue to live in hope that, one day, things may be different.

9 comments:

  1. Vivid description here, Frances. The image of the honeysuckle climbing amid the chaos is striking. I like how this is focused on an object and the idea and reality related to it. The contrast between the two creates tension and shows how character can be shown through environment. Great stuff.

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  2. Ah, another person with a black thumb? I like how you were able to give a strong emotional punch by just describing the plants.

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  3. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men... :)

    This is really quite a wonderful way to show character- of the pov person- and the character of the plants and the seasons. Thanks!

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  4. Plants have a mind of their own, I swear it! My grandfather used to plant everything and he'd get huge, vibrant results. I water, give sunshine, miracle grow and mine are lucky to spring from the ground.

    Eh, as you said there's always hope.

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  5. Thanks for your comments. It's good to know that I'm not the only one!

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  6. This made me think of walking to the park or to school along houses that tended to have honeysuckle bushes along their fences. In fact, I think in some gardens, they were almost considered weeds. They're definitely hardy enough to survive our Canadian winters!

    Best of luck in your garden!

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  7. Glad there is another one out there for whom gardening remains an elusive dream. I loved the description of your brave attempts amidst the chaos of your garden!

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  8. I love gardens, but not the act of gardening. I confess to putting plastic flowers in pots on the front porch. Have you ever read Elizabeth Von Armin's Elizabeth and her German Garden? A delightful book.

    Brenda M. 9(wag member)

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  9. At least the fig survived! I would never try to grow a fig tree. It sounds much too exotic and difficult to me. And four decades of trying proves you have perseverance. Some day you'll find the right combination.

    Nice piece. I think anyone who gardens, or pretends to do so, can relate to this one.
    ~jon

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