August 10th.--My idea of a garden is that it should be beautiful from
end to end, and not start off in front of the house with fireworks,
going off at its farthest limit into sheer sticks. The standard reached
beneath the windows should at least be kept up, if it cannot be
surpassed, right away through, and the German popular plan in this
matter quite discarded of concentrating all the available splendour of
the establishment into the supreme effort of carpet-bedding and glass
balls on pedestals in front of the house, in the hope that the stranger,
carefully kept in that part, and on no account allowed to wander, will
infer an equal magnificence throughout the entire domain; whereas he
knows very well all the time that the landscape round the corner
consists of fowls and dust-bins. Disliking this method, I have tried to
make my garden increase in loveliness, if not in tidiness, the farther
you get into it; and the visitor who thinks in his innocence as he
emerges from the shade of the verandah that he sees the best before him,
is artfully conducted from beauty to beauty till he beholds what I think
is the most charming bit, the silver birch and azalea plantation down at
the very end. This is the boundary of my kingdom on the south side, a
blaze of colour in May and June, across which you see the placid meadows
stretching away to a distant wood; and from its contemplation the ideal
visitor returns to the house a refreshed and better man. That is the
sort of person one enjoys taking round--the man (or woman) who, loving
gardens, would go any distance to see one; who comes to appreciate, and
compare, and admire; who has a garden of his own that he lives in and
loves; and whose talk and criticisms are as dew to the thirsty gardening
soul, all too accustomed in this respect to droughts. He knows as well
as I do what work, what patience, what study and watching, what laughter
at failures, what fresh starts with undiminished zeal, and what bright,
unalterable faith are represented by the flowers in my garden. He knows
what I have done for it, and he knows what it has done for me, and how
it has been and will be more and more a place of joys, a place of
lessons, a place of health, a place of miracles, and a place of sure and
never-changing peace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account