The Jim Scott Garden, a Secret Paradise

It takes a good GPS system and some nerve to find the Jim Scott garden, down a plunging, twisting dirt road on Lake Martin in central Alabama. However, at the end of the harrowing drive, a paradise waits, removed from the world. Enter the gate, and you are welcomed into a land of whimsy and magical beauty. It has taken Jim Scott nearly twenty years to create this masterpiece. It is a private retreat for his family and friends, but Mr. Scott also opens it to the public at various times through the year.

You must savor the journey as you explore the secret paths and private niches within this stroll garden. There are multiple levels with elevated bridges and streams and waterfalls throughout. Take your time; walk too fast, and you will miss something wonderful. There are many seating areas placed so that people can relax and enjoy the vistas through the trees and over the lake. It is a playful garden, for the young and the young-at-heart.

A team of five caretakers works full time to maintain this botanical wonder. When I visited, everything was perfect, healthy, weed-free and gorgeous. Here is a sampling of the photos I took of Jim Scott's unforgettable garden. This post is longer than my usual posts, but I hope you can take time to appreciate the details.  

A winding path around huge boulders and across a little stream leads to an amazing wine cellar.

This is the entrance to a secret cave behind a waterfall.

I hope you enjoyed the tour! You may want to look at this post more than once to take it all in; I am already planning another visit to Jim Scott's garden!

Addendum: Thanks goes to commenter Linda, http://southernruralroute.wordpress.com, who found this wonderful short video about Mr. Scott and his garden, Absolutely Alabama Story Jim Scott - YouTube. The video really brings his garden to life!

Gnats in My Coffee

As I stroll through my garden, I hold a cup of coffee, the sweet kind with additives that are purported to transport one to exotic locations. It is early morning. I am still wearing my pajamas. My husband fusses at me for walking around that way, but who is to see? I am blessed with privacy. The atmosphere is warm and laden with moisture: 100% humidity. I move slowly through the thick air, like a vacationer drifting in a tube down one of those lazy river rides, breathing in the vapors of the surrounding waters.I don't mind the mugginess of a summer morning when a view like this one in the front garden is waiting for me. Above are more midsummer views of the front garden. The shrubs with lavender blooms are a dwarf form of Crepe Myrtle.

The problem with this scenario is the coffee. What nut drinks coffee outside on such a muggy summer morning? Ice water would be more appropriate, but old habits, acquired in a cooler season, are hard to break. And there is another purpose for the coffee. It is difficult to pull weeds while carrying a mug of steaming coffee. Even with one hand free, the danger of spilling hot coffee is too great to be bending over and tugging at offenders near the ground. So the coffee is to keep me on task, which is to enjoy a morning stroll. I want to concentrate on the garden while the birds are active and before the glare of the white hot sun begins to scorch the skin and dazzle the eyes.Assorted coneflowers(echinacea) are blooming in the front garden now.Penelope Rose in the front garden bloomed lavishly earlier this year and is beginning to put out a second flush of flowers.Colorful exotics like Stromanthe 'Tricolor' bring a dash of color to the summer woodland garden.
Top is 'Limelight' Hydrangea, just coming into its summer glory. Below Limelight is Hydrangea 'Lady in Red', fading but still lovely. Its blooms, originally blue in my acid soil, have turned to rose.

The coffee doesn't work. It never does, and I don't know why I retain the silly notion that it might. A weed right there demands my attention. If I wait till later, it will be two feet tall with offsprings of thousands. So I sit my coffee down on a nearby stump. It will only take a moment to yank the weed out of the ground. An hour later I return to the coffee. A pile of weeds, long snaky vines, and clippings from a shrub lay nearby. The coffee is cold, and an assortment of tiny twigs and dead gnats are floating in it. I sigh. I didn't need to drink the stuff anyway. What I do need is a bath. It is time to start the day.