My Secret Garden

Once I had a Secret Garden. Though surrounded by neighbors, large azalea bushes and decade-old trees created a secluded quarter of an acre. At first this area was rampant with weeds—a dump for rusty yard furniture, large patches of poison ivy. As this was gradually cleared away, winding paths created by wild animals. and wonderful, loamy black soil appeared. This became my secret wildflower garden.

David gave me a large stone engraved with a quote from the childrens’ book, The Secret Garden

The Garden bloomed and bloomed and everyday revealed new miracles

This stood at the entrance to my garden. Each season there did seem to be new miracles. In early March the first delicate flowers, “snow drops,” appeared. Then a favorite of mine, “bloodroot” with its bright red roots used by Indians for their war paints. Several varieties of trillium appeared, each with its own legend and unique name such as “Wake Robin.” Some of these wild flowers came up on their own but I kept adding native wild plants that flourished in the rich soil. “Virginia bluebells” took over an entire plot as did “Mayapples” and “Wood Poppies” and “Money Plants.” A run-off from the street created a bog where “Marsh Marigolds” flourished. Each wild flower had its own distinct identity. There was “Wild Ginger” with its little brown jug in the center of each plant On a small incline I planted a variety of ferns, including a unique plant that only bloomed once—a flowering fern.

As summer progressed there were “Jack-in-the-Pulpits” and “Lady Slippers.” “Hellebores” though not a native Virginia plant, did so well that I sold some of them to a nearby nursery.

“Wild hyacinths” perfumed the air and birds created a backdrop of song. To add to the scene my granddaughters created concrete stepping stones.

There was a strange but kind looking statue of a Head that had been in my grandmother’s garden. I painted it green, set it on the tall stump of a tree in the center of my garden and called it the Spirit of the Garden.

Though the garden was for my individual pleasure, one year it was on the Virginia tour of Gardens and I got to share it with other wildflower lovers.

I left the garden and the entrance stone when we sold the house, bringing with me to Brandermill Woods a sampling of the plants. Only the Hellebores, Virginia bluebells and Wood poppies plus some ferns survived the much sunnier environment around our cottage.