My memory of “gardening” as a child was trying to pull weeds from hard-baked earth in the roasting sun. Utter misery. 

As a dedicated shade seeker and “inside artist”, I had no desire to tidy and fix up my garden. But it needed to be done. Happily my surrounding trees have grown over the years. These days they provide cool shade on hot days for whiney heat-wimps like me. 

I worked on getting rid of the space-consuming Himalayan blackberry bushes. Picture one clump at about 15 feet wide and 8 feet high. Planted some shade grass seeds. Smothered that bully, the creeping yellow buttercup, under a tarp over the winter. Planted some inexpensive hostas and ferns from a local garden store.

Progress.

At this point, I’m kind of starting to like gardening. It looks so nice as you clean up and look at all the cute plant babies!

Then, the moment came when there really should have been fireworks, angels trumpeting, with rays of sun piercing through and parting the clouds. 

A friend told me she had moved a plant because it hadn’t been doing well. 

What?!!!!! You can move plants?!!!!! I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

You can move plants.

Well, not just any plant, and not just any time of the year. You have to be a bit judicious.

So, that was the beginning.

With a few beautiful chunks of chopped down trees, lovely pieces of rotting wood, an un-tuneable 1912 piano board, gorgeous rocks, and many yummy ferns later, I fell in love with gardening. 

My garden is a visual feast for me. A living sculpture that brings my heart joy.  

“Gardening is the art that uses flowers and plants as paint, and the soil and sky as canvas – working with nature provides the technique.

Elizabeth Murray