Aging Gracefully

When we moved into our old, neglected carriage house and garden in 1987, I did not know a peony from a boxwood. I was busy working and raising children. We were so excited just to have fruit in the yard that we could actually eat and some flowers to put in a vase. Over the years I have read, experimented, divided, planted, replanted, lost and gained. So much of my knowledge has come from sharing with others. I have learned much, especially the peace and joy a garden bestows. It is a place to contemplate, feel alive, and delight in the five senses. I am most proud of the way our garden has given back over the years. What started as a clump of clivia is now hundreds, the hedgehog aloe that lived under the European oak has yielded 50+ babies, our agapanthus have graced the pathways of friends and neighbors from Berkeley to Napa, and our ancient acanthus is a spectacle in the spring, spreading its roots in nooks and crannies. With California's water shortages and raging fires, the garden has evolved into a dryer version of itself. Succulents, grasses, and water wise plants have edged out hydrangeas and other thirsty perennials The true heroes of the garden have not only persevered but also flourished-regal beech and sculptural oak, the ancient boxwoods and magnolias, the acanthus and elder hellebores-a true testament to the grandeur of nature.