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There was a timid spurt of energy that started last weekend. I wandered out in the garden to do whatever got done. I wasn't sure what was actually possible.

The first day went well, an hours long, slow walk with some light editing. On the second day I picked up the weed eater.

There was a mowing. The timid spurt of energy was used up. It hasn't helped that I have been to the dentist twice to have two sharp bone spurs that were piercing my gums polished off my lower jaw. They were starting an infection that was noted early in all of the blood that has been sucked out of me. The garden looks better.

Along The Scenic Driveway

After several years of feeding the idea out to the heavens, the universe aligned and produced a new and improved driveway down the hill to the cozy cabin. Here it is while in process.

Two water bars were added to direct torrential rains off the driveway before they could turn into gulley washing rivers. I had seen a lot of variations of this concept online and how to make them. My road fixer suggested sections of guardrail that I had not seen online. This was a simple and brilliant solution. It will be interesting to see how they work and stand up over time.

The driveway was tilted and the stream side of the driveway was shaved lower, all to direct water away from the house and parking lot. Two of my blooming Witch Hazels ended up on a small island. I was quite adamant that those were staying put and were not to be dinged by heavy machines.

It was a nice, mostly sunny day for fixing a driveway.

'Jelena' was in full bloom, minus the flowers the deer have been eating. Damn varmints!

Tomorrow I will wake up to the return of snow.

The First Mowing

It was time.

The maintenance gardener finally got around to mowing his own paths. One simple element of order makes a world of difference. There was also some ruthless culling of New England Aster and one kind Goldenrod.

It's still a jungle out there,

In the wild cultivated gardens.

Blind Man Chopping

It has been sunny and dry for several days running. Six hundred feet of road frontage is now garden quality tidy after the mauling tree chop. Garden quality tidy for a roadside anyway.

There was significant progress made in the chop and drop of meadow remnants. I will admit my normal methodical section by section approach collapsed into long meandering walks across the mountain top. When I can see again, I will be able to tell how good of a job actually got done. Maybe there will be another heavy snow before winter is over.

The witch hazels are blooming and the bulbs are rising. Spring is in the growing daylight.

This morning there was a light dusting of snow. I know better. Winter is not over.

No need to hurry. The snowdrops are out and the bulbs are rising. It is good to take things slow.

Miracle At Betsy's Gap

The tile floors in the cozy cabin got mopped for the first time ever. It wasn't as complicated of a procedure as I was expecting. There was a full mopping. The sun will come out tomorrow and I will be able to tell if it actually worked.

Picking tile the color of my dirt was one of the smartest design choices I made in building the house. It may be another ten years before I have to mop them again.

The Sisters will be arriving next weekend to fetch their mother for winter storage. The first hint of fall color and the second hint of cool is washing over the mountains in a breezy grey mist. I started cleaning last month. Then the stars aligned and a mopping happened.

Then this happened. My potted plants are too big for my house.

It Is Done

Some of it anyway. There are a lot of paths and edges out there.

Today was my gardens turn. It is the perfect time for a good mowing as the Tall Flower Meadow goes in to full bloom.

Shall we go for a stroll in a freshly mowed garden? The meadow is feeling quite civilized.

This has been an exceptional bloom year in the meadows.

Then I realized, nothing has been squashed yet. The pestilence has been subdued,

The Great Lawn

Now mowed.

This is where my ashes go. I hope. Swirling down the drain.

I'll have sky lights.

This is a pretty good record of how I keep things mowed during the Lush period and the actual layout of the grounds should anyone ever be curious to know how to find the garden.

It might not be readily discernable shortly after I am gone.

In the hiss of a summer lawn.

A meadow begins high bloom.

Pedal on.

The Other Lawn

While I was mowing the parking lot one evening last week it dawned on me that I have another lawn.

It is in the land of the dung piles, the overflow squash department.

Actually it is the intended house pad. The cozy cabin was built on the edge of the slope so that in the future another 2 bedroom house could be built. The septic to allow that is installed.

With each passing day that possibility gets more remote for me. Another house will have to be in someone else's future.

This large space has been morphing into a lawn. This much level ground should not be wasted on lawn. What to do with the house pad in the meantime? 

As one might imagine some gardening has happened down slope around the perimeters. All kinds of things came up when the hemlocks came down and I have been editing for what I like. Magnolia fraseri was a keeper and there are as many as a dozen.

A grove of Devil's Walking Stick, Aralia spinosa came up and I waived my no thorns rule. I may have planted a Dawn Redwood - not doing so well - Styrax, Japanese Snowbell and a taller Fargesia bamboo down in there as well. All that flat ground is surrounded by an extension of the wild cultivated gardens.

And in my decrepitude there is the notion of starting a little nursery and propagating plants to supplement my meager gubmint check. That is a possibility I could start right now. Then I thought of all the work involved to get that set up. On another day perhaps.

A Good Mowing

A two day weekend in the gardening season is not that common. I needed one. To do whatever I felt like doing and nothing more. I did it outside.

Wandering quietly for hours.

There was no pressing need. The paths were fine. I just felt a desire for some tidy in the rapidly expanding Lush of early summer.

So I mowed a bit over the course of two days that saw countless other odds and ends attended to in the garden.

There was time

To experience my own garden.

How did I get to this wild place?

When I think of all the maintenance that needs doing in the gardens I tend, to wander outside slowly, to edit a bit should a thought arise, to let everything else just be, feels liberating.

I am not in charge. How did I get to this wild place?

Where freshly mowed paths are all the tidy it takes to wander out there undistracted from an amazing garden bursting with life. How did I get to this wild place in the in-between time?