The office garden has become my favorite corner of the landscape. It was the last garden I designed this summer, the one that kept calling my name even though I knew the days were too hot and my budget too thin. I wonder if it’s because I saw it all the time, through the home office window, while I enjoyed my morning coffee, or grilled on the back patio.
I bought this coffee mug in 2016 at the Glacier Point gift shop in Yosemite National Park to add to my collection of mug memories. My son and I were on day three of our summer trip to California. Printed on it is a quote from naturalist John Muir.
“Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.”
It was the perfect senitiment to capture this adventure of ours through central California. We’ve hiked a lot of paths together over the years, and more than a few of them have been dirt.
I was asked the other day what my strategy would be for voting this year. I’ve never been a straight party voter, but I’m tempted this time around.
It’s the most perfect autumn morning, our season’s first chill. I stepped out into the crisp, 35°F air and felt it fill my lungs. I paused for a moment, then exhaled a satisfyingly visible trail of vapor back to the universe.
I remember when I took my first walk around the garden the day of the home inspection. I stopped at the ash tree in the right of way, thinking, I bet that’s ‘Autumn Purple’, my favorite cultivar of Fraxinus americana. Even though the branches were bare in early spring, I could imagine the striking fall color — purple with yellow undersides.
I also knew it was only a matter of time before that voracious little bug, the emerald ash borer, would be carving its subway tunnels under the bark, depriving the tree of water and other nutrients.
The last vestiges of summer’s heat were chased out by a stormy wall of cold air that’s left behind a chilly breeze that feels like October.
I’m more determined than ever to #ShareBeauty — but that doesn’t mean I ignore all the ugliness in the world. My heart is heavy and hurting for our world right now, for the lack of compassion so evident in our civic conversation. But I can’t bear to amplify the ugliness and prolong its echo. I can only confront it along my daily path and focus on providing fresh air and respite for those on the right side of history.
It’s early October, so I’m not surprised to see the signs of cooler weather in the garden.
The rosy tones of autumn are dotting Hydrangea inflorescence. I grow these shrubs for their fall and winter presence as much as the summer spectacle. They are the expected stars of fall.
