If you were coming to visit me, this is what I’d see as I stood on my sidewalk leading to the front porch and waited for you to arrive. The irises are blooming under the tree, along with the white azalea. This is the patch of landscaping that the little turtle inhabited last summer. On the other side of the driveway I can just see the bottom and left side of what I call the angel garden.
When you’d arrive and park on the drive, you’d see this sea of irises as you waved hello to me standing on the walk behind.
I’d join you and together we’d walk down the drive beside the Angel garden. “You came at the perfect time,” I’d say. “The irises are blooming.”
We’d take our time and stop as we walked to look and linger. You’d comment on how beautiful and stunning the display is. You’d want to know what kind of irises they are. “I don’t know,” I’d have to say because I still haven’t found out.
We might climb up the first terraced level and stand on the large landscaping stones to get a closer look.
We’d turn and look back down the garden from this point towards the street where we see a neighbor’s house across the way.
“I never get over my amazement of what creative genius flowers truly are,” I’d say. “So delicate and frail, yet strong enough to withstand pelting rains.”
As we’d look straight into the Angel garden I’d point out to you the progress Mark has made on removing honeysuckle from the shaded woodland garden beyond.
We’d eventually come to the end of the drive and take one last look down the Angel garden.
Then we’d turn straight ahead and see the St. Francis garden beside our deck outside our kitchen. If we’d turn to the right, we would walk into the garage where I keep my gardening bench and all my tools. This St. Francis garden sits on the side of a hill. The bunch of irises behind the angel statue are at the top and the distant bunch of irises beyond the bird bath are at the bottom of the garden. We’d walk down the deck steps beside the garden.
“My son and daugther-in-law gave me the St. Francis statue last year for a house-warming present,” I’d say. We’ve tucked him under the evergreen, perched on a stone.
We could walk down the stone steps that you see at the left corner of this photo to the bottom or left side of the garden, which ends at a stone wall built beside the woods, but we probably wouldn’t. Instead, we’d continue down the two or three deck steps to the yard. I’d point out the lattice work under the deck on the right and show you where the groundhogs live.
We’d step out into the grass at the base of the garden. I’d show you the cleared woods to the right where the stone wall is, although you can’t see it in this photo, and where Mark uprooted large, brittle, gnarly honeysuckle that were hanging over the wall and garden.
Then we’d climb back up the steps, go inside, get a glass of cool refreshing iced tea. I’d probably put artificial sweetener in mine, but you might prefer sugar or nothing at all in yours. Then we’d return outside to the deck where we could sit and talk while we looked at the trees and watched for groundhogs.
If you were coming to visit.