The days have been long and hot here. With all five of us on holidays, time has stretched and elongated across weeks of activity with each task, moment, day seamlessly blending into the next. We lay in bed each night, exhausted, wondering together just how we managed to fill our summery days quite so much.
We have inherited a neglected and lazily sloping terraced garden at our new home. Each day we spend time exploring it; snipping back vines of ivy and jasmine to uncover fruit trees (plums, limes, nectarines, lemons) and native plants (grevillea, banksia, wattle, flowering gums), lifting up rocks to discover hidden keys, sweeping the dirt away from the edges of red brick paved paths to find the paths are wider than once thought, extra rows of bricks are hidden underneath the edges of the beds. Slowly, over time, the garden has edged its way across the paths, and eaten everything in sight.
I’ve been slowly placing all my succulent pots around the garden in an attempt to make it look nice, but it is such a mess, it really is going to take us so long to bring our garden up to speed. Though, truth be told, I’m discovering that I love this process. I was sweeping our front paths today when an older couple walked past. We said our hellos and the woman commented, “A lot of work here, these leaves are relentless!” I agreed, and continued sweeping, only to realise I had been out the front pottering and sweeping and looking and dreaming and exploring for over an hour.
Last weekend we were given nine (NINE!) new plants, all propagated by a family member. We have three silver princess, three jacarandas and three ornamental silk trees to plant around our home. This has encouraged us to examine the light, the slope, the plants in more detail than ever.
Today and tomorrow we might plant some of them, if the heat allows. I know we will look back at photos in years to come and can’t wait to take note of their progress.
I am enjoying this space more than I had anticipated. I watch as the light turns pink in the evenings and see the gentle lean of the plants as they reach towards the sun. I see the weeds and vines enveloped and wrapped around the plants – straining to escape. Day by day we will continue to uncover and untangle and unleash. I’m learning as I go: observing, pottering, playing, experimenting. I’m so excited to see where this garden takes us and can’t help but feel like it chose us for a reason.