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Rocking Along in the Lady Garden

I bought some rocks for my garden the other day. The man who loaded them into my vehicle was from Mexico. 

"In my country," he said, "Rocks like this are everywhere. No one would ever pay for such things. In America," he paused and gave me a big smile, "People will buy anything."

Well, I've already scavenged all the rocks from my own yard, and I needed some to give structure to an area I am developing down from our patio. I call it the lady garden, because I have a pot there shaped like a lady's head.Last year a carpenter built me an arbor to one side of the area, and I have a swing hanging from it. There is a large urn in the center and a flagstone path and four separate planting areas. I am outlining the planting areas with the rock. 

My oldest son dropped by today, and I roped him into helping me haul the rocks down to the garden. I still need more rocks, but it is beginning to take shape. Most of my yard has a natural, informal feel to it. The lady garden is a bit more formal, though still woodsy. I enjoy sitting in the swing and watching the wildlife. 

An owl family lives in the area. They are huge birds, and their hoots have an otherworldly, haunted quality. I recently saw one of them sitting atop the arbor, and it was creepy to watch it swivel its head from front to back without moving its body. This spring I sat in the swing and watched the mother owl teach her baby to fly. She flew from branch to branch, calling the young one to come. Baby finally took off, following her on short hops at first, and then finally mom and baby soared together from one side of the lady garden to the other, a distance of about forty feet.  

I felt like a proud godmother.

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Reader Comments (3)

I love your lady head!

November 11, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterDeborah at Kilbourne Grove

I love your lady head!

November 11, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterDeborah at Kilbourne Grove

Now I can see how your Lady Garden began! Our last garden was on the lower slopes of Table Mountain. This one is clay, and each rock is a carefully harvested souvenir of a journey.

December 29, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterElephant's Eye

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