A composer by vocation, a gardener by avocation. My garden and my life as a composer are deeply intertwined - the yin and yang of my creative life. . .
Two years ago, on a bitterly cold January day, we brought sweet Pixie home, a 6 month old poodle puppy frightened because she had never been away from her first home before. She was reassured by stuffed toys and cuddles and quickly settled into our lives. Her first moments outside were spent dashing joyfully through the deep snow while I laughed at her antics.
She loves taking afternoon naps with her Dad
and keeps a watchful eye out for visitors.
She’s gone on to be a cheerful garden helper
and has had many cameos in my garden films.
This past week, a beautiful snowfall brought inches of white fluffy fun to the garden and Pixie responded by joyfully racing through the snow. What a beautiful sight! It was the perfect time to make her the star of her own Pixie movie – enjoy!
We are just past the Winter Solstice here in the northern hemisphere – each day will now grow longer, bringing more light into our daily lives. It is not surprising that many holidays in December celebrate a season of light with candles, Yule logs, Christmas lights and many other traditions.
Without leaves on the trees, the bright winter sun shines through the seedpods of plants and create patterns of shadow and light in the quiet garden.
Milkweed pod
Patterns on the bench
Hardy begonia seedpod
After a brisk run through the cold morning garden, Pixie enjoys a nap in the afternoon light, raising a sleepy head every so often.
I had the energy this year to fully decorate the house for the holidays, inside and out. The front porch got special treatment to welcome visitors with a rustic green and white theme. (click on any photo to see a full size image)
Inside the house, I managed to get two trees decorated – the one in the front hall is full of musical angels and instruments, birds, magical creatures and the sun, moon, and stars.
The tree looking out over the woods and garden has a rustic woodland theme, filled with birds, furry creatures, nature Santas, and gardening tools.
I had so much fun decorating that I made a short video of the Christmas trees including a few cameos by Pixie and a soundtrack of Christmas music that I arranged for a CD years ago. Betty, a YouTube friend of mine, also included my video in a montage of Christmas trees on her channel. Enjoy!
As much as I miss spending my summer days in the garden, I look forward to the winter evenings as the sunlight fades and the candles and Christmas tree lights glow in the dark. I often light a fire in the music room fireplace and play Christmas carols with Pixie at my feet, a lovely way to end the evening. Whatever you may celebrate this time of year, may the light shine on your path and brighten the new year ahead.
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing. ~T. S. Eliot
How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs
We had a glorious autumn this year. Each day, the colors shifted from green to gold to russet and burgundy, slow steps into the final leaf fall.
The hillside remained handsome for longer than expected while the leaves in the woods began their slow shift into the colors of fire.
Pixie loves the smells of autumn and the fun of running through crisp leaves.
The rosy pink blossoms of Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ glowed beneath the gold of the bitternut hickory leaves, a column of unexpected colors. The trees in the surrounding woods slowly crescendoed from a murmur of pale gold to a full-throated song of orange and russet red.
Yesterday morning I walked through the garden, now quiet and hushed except for the crackle of fallen leaves on the path and the calls of a few winter birds. The leaves lie on the ground and pale winter sunlight has replaced the mysterious shadows and deep colors of autumn. The fall symphony has come to a close and winter waits in the wings, a new season carrying its own quiet beauty.
You can see the beautiful progression of color and leaf fall here – enjoy!
Autumn teaches us the beauty of letting go. Growth requires release – it’s what the trees do. ~ka’ala
The seasons are what a symphony ought to be: four perfect movements in harmony with each other. ~Arthur Rubinstein (unverified)
Slowly, the leaves are beginning to don their autumn cloaks of gold and red. The weeping cherry in the center of the circle garden is the first to turn,
followed by the red leaves of our native oak leaf hydrangea.
Much of the garden has barely begun to change color – the oaks are the last to turn as if they are reluctant to leave summer behind.
The white blossoms of Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ have softened to a rose-tinged hue
while other flowers and foliage carry on as if autumn was still a distant dream.
Snapdragon ‘Black Prince’
Red coleus
Orange coneflower
Ipomea ‘Blackie’
This summer, a former student came to visit us at home and we spent a splendid afternoon together. In the midst of his technology filled life, he had become interested in gardening and asked for a tour of my garden. Bill tagged along and as we strolled through the rose arbor into the lower garden, Bill exclaimed “walking through the arbor, now I understand!”
As I turned to him in puzzlement, he went on to say that he hadn’t walked through the arbor into that part of the garden in a long time, having been content to admire it from the deck while playing his guitar. Walking into the garden gave him a completely different perspective of what it meant to stand in the space and be enveloped by it. I was deeply moved by his reaction yet it confirmed what I’ve always believed about a garden – to truly experience it, you need to walk through it, not just look at it. Those of you who garden or who hike in nature surely know this difference.
By bringing a soulful consciousness to gardening, sacred space can be created outdoors. ~S. Kelley Harrell
My garden has developed its own sense of placeover the years – while I made the design decisions, tilled the soil, and filled it with plants, it was in partnership with nature. The garden and I evolved and grew together – I learned its many secrets, it responded to my care and now we are deeply intertwined in this long standing friendship.
This is where I’ve walked every day for the past 22 years, listening, paying attention, and finding delight. Joined in this quiet endeavor, our efforts have yielded both beauty and bounty in every season. Each time I step through an arbor, walk along a path, cradle a flower, or watch a spider weave an intricate web, I feel a part of the magic.
. . . the ideal space must contain elements of magic, serenity, sorcery and mystery. ~Luis Barragan, Mexican architect
A few weeks ago, I taught a garden design class and decided that the best way to teach the value of structure in a garden was to make a short video of the entrances of my garden through every season. As I was putting it together, I realized these entrances are really the invitation to enter into the garden.
A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy. ~Luis Barragan
As the seasons change, I hope each of you finds serenity and joy in the nuances and beauty of nature.
On September 23, the light on this planet will achieve a moment of perfect balance, a moment when there is a period of equal light and darkness throughout the world. And then it will tilt on, ever changing over the seasons until the next equinox. Like the planet, I experience my own moments of balance, especially when I’m in the garden.
Life is a balance of holding on and letting go. ~Rumi
I’ve devoted this year to improving my health so that I can continue to garden. Daily attention to the foods I eat and working to build strength has improved not only my mobility but my balance, allowing me to weed a hillside or traverse the stone steps of the garden without fear.
When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way. ~Wayne Dyer
Once again I can dance with the garden, a pas de deux that seems to leave us both pleased. I supply the plants and the support system, she responds with beauty that nourishes my soul and living creatures who fill the garden with color, movement and sound. We’ve become old friends, my garden and I – we have found our rhythm in this slow dance of flowers. (Click on any photo to see a full size image)
Rose ‘Ambridge Rose’
Clematis ‘Margo Koster’
New rose leaves
Lily ‘Tiger Babies’
Griffith Buck rose
Bumblebee sleeping on dahlia
Last year, I focused on replanting the outer garden to grow more native plants, to support more pollinators in their life cycle. The results were all I hoped for, as the more naturalistic planting style fit our wooded lot and the upswing in insects and birds was notable. This scene was transformed from the foxgloves and peonies in May to the blooms of betony (Stachys) and milkweed in June, along with the emergence of native grasses.
July was filled with the graceful wands of tufted hair grass (Deschampsia cespitosa) and the raspberry red flowers of bee balm (Monarda didyma).
The walk through this little garden is filled with the sound of bees and birds
though quiet on misty mornings.
You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you. ~Isadora Duncan
This year, I took the same approach to the inner garden, letting go of many non-natives, especially many daylilies which found new homes
Hillside of daylilies
Daylily ‘Lavender Stardust’
Daylily ‘Eggplant Ecstasy’
and replacing them with plants that support wildlife at every stage of their life cycle. Next year, those changes should be more evident in the number and diversity of insects and birds yet still add beauty and balance to the garden.
The balance of nature is not a status quo, it is fluid, ever shifting, in a constant state of adjustment. ~Rachel Carson
All the flowers of summer, from June to mid-September, are featured in this short film, with Miss Pixie gracing the garden from time to time. I was inspired by the beautiful soundtrack recording of Satie’s Gymnopedie #1 recorded on cello.
Bill and I celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary a week ago. The cake decorator got a little confused about the number – we’re still practicing how to pronounce 44nd 🙂Pixie decided to erase the error by breaking her year-long record of no counter-surfing; she was feeling left out of the festivities and grabbed her own piece of cake. Honestly, it was a day of hilarity and celebration, from the time we removed the cake from its box and started giggling, toasted the day with Prosecco, reminisced over our wedding album photos, and laughed at Pixie’s antics. Forty-four years of loving and laughing has brought its own point of equanimity to our marriage.
When I awake tomorrow, the earth will be poised on its seasonal moment of balance. May you find joy and balance in your days ahead, no matter what comes your way. Happy Equinox!