2011 held many garden surprises.  It was the year of the unexpected.  It wasn’t my plan to re-do my entire garden in 2011, but that is, indeed, what happened.  In one year, I learned more about gardening and who I was as a gardener, than all the other years combined.  It was a gardening epiphany.  A strong word?  Yes; but appropriate.

All of what I learned in 2011 resulted in my “I’m gonnas” for 2012.  Most of what I will write about in 2012 will be about my gardening epiphanies.  Here is a peak what I hope to accomplish:

1)  Enhance the purpose of my garden.  Helen’s Haven is a wildlife habitat.  This is something I never want to forget.  It’s the core of my garden’s purpose.   But I also like garden art — even in the form of artistic looking plants.  If it’s twisted, weeping, or stuck strangely on a standard, I will grow it in my garden.  It’s not a departure from wildlife gardening since every plant, by some definition, meets a criterian providing for wildlife:  food, cover, place to raise young.   In broad terms, a plant may not offer food or a place to raise young, but all plants can provide some sort of cover.  However, not all plants are created equal – some are better than others at providing for the wildlife’s needs. In my case, I have enough land (1/2 ace) that, with careful planning, allows me to indulge in the fun and freaky.  2012 will find me trading up some pedestrian exotics for equivalent (or better) natives.  Out with the Forsythia, in with the Hamamelis virginiana.  If my Forsythia had more value than yellow flowers, such as varigated foliage, or used as a seasonal clock telling me when spring is near or when I need to fertilizer my tall fescue, I would keep it.  But I have iCal for that.  And even though Forsythia is an excellent provider of cover and a nectar source for early spring pollinators, so is the the native Witch Hazel, but on a grander scale.

2)  Less maintenance, higher impact. Given that Helen’s Haven was already low maintenance, I even surprised myself when I found the last vestige of high maintenance in my garden and converted it to year round interest and less maintenance.  Out with the dedicated Perennial Border, in with the Mixed Border.

3)  Photograph my garden more.  As I journey through the seasons, side by side with Helen’s Haven, I want to remember the first galanthus of the season, the daffodils facing the sun, the butterfly alighting the Lantana, and the fall color setting my soul on fire.  And as a note to self, tag my photos better.  I’m really bad at this.  Out with the random photos, in with the  photos with purpose.

4)  Entertain more.  We all lead busy lives.  Mine is not much different than yours.  But at some point, having friends over to share a nosh, a cup tea, or a glass of wine, fell low on my list.  I plan to change these priorities.  Out with just me in the garden and in with friends over more.

5)  Stop to watch the flowers grow.  I actually do a very good job of  this.  But I think there is room for improvement.  Doing more of number 4 will help this along.  It is not uncommon for me to just sit and stare at the beauty that surrounds me.

6)  Weep at nature’s beauty.  When I finished my Mixed Border re-design, taking it from a perennial bed to a mixed border, for several days and even now, 3 months later, I want to weep at the beauty I created it.  After years of searching, I found the soul of my garden.  It’s no longer just a good selection of great plants, placed in a pretty pattern.  This garden now has soul.  I’m gonna weep if I want to, when I want too.

7)  Enjoy the seasons as the come. My garden epiphany helped me realize, that there is something beautiful and wonderful in every season.  I clearly remember when I lived in England and it was raining again, I thought to myself, If I didn’t go out because of the rain, I wouldn’t get out much.  The same with the garden.  Raleigh has beautiful winters.  Half chilly, half cold, but with flowers that bloom and berries that ignite.  I will just quit my whining and accept the season I’m in.  Why am I so anxious for spring when I have a winter waiting to bring me beauty.  Yes, I must bundle up and the days are shorter, but I will no longer let that deter me.  I’m gonna enjoy the season I’m in.

EIGHT)  Eat pray mulch.  I’m gonna eat what I sow, pray for nature to take it’s course, and mulch for all the good mulching does.

9)  Sit in the Garden House to just look and listen.  The Garden House was one of the first plans I had for my garden and finally after 14 years those plans were rallied.  I’m not gonna squander my good fortune.

10) Write more, blog less.  This is not what it sounds like.  Blogging is writing; but as I go into my 5th year blogging, I realize I feel I need to post something when I’m not really in the mood.  I much rather write a post when the mood strikes me, not by the turn of a calendar.  After all, isn’t that what blogging is all about — being able to post in real time?  Besides, I’m writing a book.  That has to take precedence. I’m gonna go back on blog vacay now and come back when my book is done.  Then, I’m gonna write whatever I want, when ever I want.  I like that!

May all your dreams come true in 2012 and remember, they may not even have been invented yet.  So keep a keen eye open for dreams not even thought of yet.

H.

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

My blog needs a vacation; one longer that I’ve ever had personally, but a well deserved one. After 5 years of regular postings, Gardening With Confidence blog will rest while I finish my book, 50 Ways to Garden With Confidence. I will continue with my other blog commitments, Moss and Stone Gardens – Where Moss Rocks!, Christian Science Monitor, Better Homes and Gardens, Martha Stewart Living and TarHeel Gardening when that starts back up, but my personal blog will rest.

Once the final manuscript is turned in, I can resume my Life of Raleigh, where I garden with confidence.  It’s my hope my book will help others garden with confidence, as well.

Excerpt from Gardening With Confidence™

There are just some gardens that when I enter, it feels like I’m in the middle of the pit of a well orchestrated symphony, with each instrument — a flower, a shrub, a tree, an accent — insignificant on it’s own, but lyrical within the arrangement.

These gardens aren’t monied, necessarily. But they are exact, with each addition carefully considered. The rhythm, the scale, the color echo, work well together. Nothing dominates or stands out to upstage each important player. It’s the garden as a whole that must be considered for it to sing.

Thanks for understanding.

H.

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

Siting here, now, at my Mac, it’s fuzzy how it came that I would plank my way through New York City.  But, alas, I did.

Approval of my actions came from  my three children’s giggles and a big ole belly laugh from my husband of 23 years.  These four people who know me best; know me to be silly on occasion, this was one of those occasions.

Planking came naturally to me, both physically and philosophically.  Before I planked, I, too, wondered why anyone would bother. Why plank? It’s stupid or I don’t get it, or really? — Really! The truth is, I plank because I can.

Planking, the internet craze in which people are photographed lying face down in unusual public spaces and posted on the internet.

Planking seemed to be the natural thing to do as I  traveled with David Spain to New York City so David could appear on the Martha Stewart TV show. When you are doing something surreal, like being on Martha’s show, you might as well be surreal, in a surreal city. I’m not sure how Raleigh would react to such antics, but New York didn’t seem to mind.

I have a couple of favorite planks, so if you ask me which was I enjoyed the most, it would be a toss up between The Food Truck, Grand Central Station, or Taking the Train to Wave Hill.

Please tell me which one YOU like best!
  

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

We went to Prune under the recommendation of my friend and editor of Country Gardens magazine, James Baggett.  Since James is a foodie and a post New Yorker, I  knew he had an opinion I wanted.

When I traveled last summer to Montreal, James told me to try Poutine.  So while the kids and I were spending the day in Old Montreal, we ordered up.  Even though I sent a great photo of our treat to James,  I felt I disappointed him with just sending a photo instead of describing the taste, texture, and pleasure we each enjoyed savoring Poutine.  Perhaps, reporting about my experience dining at Prune will make up for my Poutine faux pas. This food review is dedicated to you, James.  I hope it brings you similarly good memories.

PRUNE, the restaurant, not the tree trimming action.

Seated at an end table, our waitstaff, Emma, with lips of a Gibson Girl, pursed as if she knew no one is ever dissatified enjoying a meal at Prune, liked us instantly since we brought our own table decoration, Moss Rocks!   As we chatted, we made it clear we were celebrating, since it was the day David Spain first appeared on Martha Stewart TV.  Within seconds of telling her this, Emma said she would be right back.  When she returned, she wasn’t alone; in her hands were two glasses of something sparkling.  I don’t know for certain why we were treated to a glass of a sparkling wine, Cava Brut, Castell Roig sp.  Emma knew we were celebrating, but I don’t think it was necessarily because of Martha.  It seemed celebrating was enough for Emma to bestow upon us the sparkling wine.

Cava Brut, Castell Roig sp was charming from the first sip after the clink of our glasses, to the empty bottle we finished at the end of our meal.  Our little congrats-taste from Emma led us to ordering a bottle.  After all, we were celebrating.  It seemed appropriate to forego ordering drinks or  even wine, and stick instead with this nectar and so we ordered a bottle. With the intense week prior to Martha, preparing and scripting, we were finally relaxing and enjoying our New York experience.

The conversation never wavered; it never does with David Spain. We engaged our table mates in conversation, a chef and a design student at Parson’s School of design, also celebrating, in their case, her 27th birthday.

THE APPETIZER

For appetizers, David ordered lamb sausage and I ordered the grilled shrimp in anchovy sauce. This was James’ recommendation.  He was very specific about this.

As an anchovy aficionado, meaning I’ll eat any anchovy from a can, jar, or pickled, added to salads, pizza, or eaten right out of a jar, with olive oil dripping down my neck, I knew I would love this shrimp dish and  I did.  James didn’t have to recommend it twice.

The shrimp had their heads on, which some of you may not like. Too many people I know won’t even eat a shrimp that wasn’t deveined, let alone with their head still on.  But after all, I’m  Chessie Chick, born in Chincoteague, raised in Norfolk, so anything from the water is good to me.

If you are one of those people who want your shrimp dressed, skip down. You may not want to know what I did next.

Pinching off the head, I sucked the juice right out of its thumbnail-sized exoskeleton. They were good. Real good.

As I write this, it occurs to me, I didn’t see what David did with his heads.  I hope they didn’t go to waste.  Nothing worse than a lost opportunity.

Next, the body of the protein packed shell was slowly peeled away to reach the finger length pale, pink meat.  Slowly, I dipped each bite in the anchovy sauce wishing there was more or that I didn’t have to share the sauce. I would order this again.  Thank you James.

David’s lamb sausage appetizer, these meatball thingies, were tasty even for this southern girl who doesn’t  actually eat (or like) lamb. It’s one of the rare foods I don’t particularly care for, but I felt since we were celebrating, I would try it again. I also didn’t have the heart  to tell David I didn’t eat lamb; knowing we would share the meal, I didn’t want him not to get his first pick. And, it wasn’t like I was gonna have to eat okra or anything, so why not try it, right?  It was good…for lamb.

THE ENTREE

After another pour of Brut, we decided on our main course. I choose the quail; David got the lamb shank braised with tomato, cinnamon, cumin, and preserved lemon.  I guess David likes lamb.

The table next to us, who arrived while were were having our appetizers, were eating the roasted marrow bones, parsley salad, with sea salt.  I wondered what that was like and wondered more what I could make out of the bones when they were done. They sure seemed like they could make great votive holders.

My meal was presented beautifully, but I did have to get past the quail taking on a human-like quality, I gave one to David and had the other. He shared his lamb with me. It was decided, and it was a wise decision, we would eat the quail first then move on to the lamb. Not unlike switching from a Pinot Gris to a Cab, we felt it was important to start with a more delicate taste first and them move on to a more earthy, richer flavor.

The quail, tasted wild, as if it were shot from a natural landscape where hunters would gather wearing garb advertised in Garden and Gun, stroking their hunting dog afterwards, and sipping a fine cognac. There were no buckshot holes, though, so it’s hard saying how the quail met their demise.

The little wing, no bigger than the leaf of a lotus, was where I started; pink inside, not dissimilar to the shrimp, but meatier, richer, smoother, I let each bite roll around my tonngue until I completely owned it. Next, I moved on to the other wing, the legs and tiny thighs, then the body, which was deboned, was succulent and smooth, causing me to groan out loud. This didn’t go un-noticed by our table mates. But it was understood. You see, if you listened closely, a chorus of groans occured throughout the evening, right down the vertical line of tables.

After the quail, we began eating David’s lamb.  I enjoyed this lamb flank even more the lamb sausage. Who knew? but this lamb didn’t taste like the mutton my mother made. Tender and rich, I ate an unrespectable amount. There was no room for dessert….until Emma mentioned caramel, salted ice cream, crouton…maybe not in that order and I’m not even sure we were offered

other choices; maybe I didn’t let her go on; maybe I stopped her at the salted caramel.

Smooth, silky, startling savvy tastes only salt mixed with cream can do. We also enjoyed a distilled wine with dessert.  With all that gluttony, even we were surprised to have turned down the coffee, but it was getting late.

We enjoyed the meal, our time together, and toasting James for recommending Prune.

As a final departure, with the nod from Emma, I planked the table to the disbelief of our table mates, who, once recovered,  raised their glasses, and with a wink, we walked back into the streets of New York City.

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

A manor for sure, but named English Garden—Woodland Paradise by the home’s gardener, C.J. Dykes.   As I travel down Oakmist Road, in Cary,  Finding their house number, I’m greeted with a formal English front entrance design.  C.J. welcomes me inside.  Enthralled with all that I see,  I’m now inclined to dub this place Oakmist Manor.   It’s not just this bit of formal front design that sparked another name in my mind, it was this home’s interior that did.  Every inch of this home’s interior is exquisitely appointed by the hands of Bryar Cougle; but alas, this is a story of a garden.

C.J. and I have been friends for some time, he and I worked together on the moss garden we designed for the Raleigh Garden Club’s NC State Fair entry.  C.J. has a very good eye and knows how to pack a lot of goodness into a small space; something I knew from his home garden.

Recently, Oakmist Manor, ahem, English Garden — Woodland Paradise was open for the Raleigh area Garden Conservancy’s Open Days tours.  A glimpse at the photos below will affirm the hit this garden was on this year’s tour.

Here’s an excerpt about C.J.’s, taken from the Garden Conservancy’s 2012 Open Days Directory The gardens were started in 1992 with a handful of perennials from C. J.’s former house. It is now a mixture of roses, perennials, palms, tropicals, and a woodland shade garden. The front gardens consist of a formal rose garden, a mixed shrub garden, and a formal French parterre. The back has a dense shade garden under the deck, a banana grove, three mixed English-style perennial gardens, and a lower semi-shaded woodland trail. There is probably more genera and species than most people would ever see except maybe in an arboretum or botanical garden. The gardens gained the honor of being named a Certified Wildlife Habitat™ by the National Wildlife Federation in 2010.

I hope you enjoy this virtual tour!

C.J.’s garden is one I hope to visit in all seasons.  As a horticulturists, C.J. knows a bit about planning for a garden to perform in every month of the year.   Well done, C.J. And Bryar, next time I’m invited for tea and you don’t see me there, CALL ME.

Helen  Yoestis a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

Lost and late, my travel companion and dear friend, Beth Jimenez and I make a good first impression (not!) meeting Christopher C. NC, just outside Clyde.  He wasn’t mad, though, maybe concerned knowing we had come from so far and still had a long journey ahead of us that day.  The rain and fog didn’t help.  But none of that dampened our time together, visiting his new home and garden, all the while talking garden philosophy.

Christopher C. and me, Helen Yoest

Our  tour began at the front door.  As I raised my right foot to enter the home of Christopher C. NC,  I spied a sign that read Hale Mana.  It’s the name Christopher christened his home.  It shouldn’t have come as any surprise that Hawaiian words would describe his world since  Christopher spent 20 years living on a Hawaiian island.  Even before I knew the definition of Hale Mana, entering the driveway to his home and garden, I understood the meaning.  Hale Mana means House of spiritual awakening.

I do realize spiritual awakening is a process, and not necessarily understood in a moment, but I can attest, entering his property, I was not only awakened, but felt alive.  This place was real.  It felt raw.  Christopher left a footprint, true; but it was small.

The property, save the power line easement connecting others on the mountaintop, seemed untouched.  Maybe not untouched like one might experience out west, but untouched for North Carolina.  From the time I entered and left,  I had the feeling Christopher was the steward of the land for this low spot on a North Carolina  mountaintop.

Christopher's Cairn

Familiar photo ops abound as I walked his property, including Christopher’s Cairn.   I’ve always been fascinated with Cairns and I enjoyed seeing Christopher’s in person.

My city slickness, fell hard for an Ageratina altissima, White Snakeroot.  The mountainside was white with blooms.  I carried  this one home with me in a sack, as Christopher pointed out  in his post about my visit. Various Solidago (goldenrods) were also in bloom.   Beth and I kept admiring one goldenrod that looked like, well, a golden rod.  That one went home with me, as well, and I shared it with Beth.

Christopher even included a little piece of the Aster cordifolius, Blue Wood Aster.  As the story goes when visiting a garden, I should have been there yesterday, but in this case, I should have been there the following week,  I missed the mountainside turn blue.  Another time, I hope.

Even a little of the  Blue Wood Aster came home with me; but, alas, there wasn’t enough to share with Beth.  Maybe someday I will be able to share mine with her.

We did make it over to Christopher’s mom’s garden.  The path from one property lead to the other.  It was an enjoyable walk, even when my foot fell into a hole as deep as my knee.  I’m not sure I can describe the look on Christopher’s face when this happened. Luckily, I popped right out of that hole with no harm done, but for a moment, I think I frightened my new found gardening friend.

Here are some more photos from Christopher and Bulbarella’s gardens.

Just as I was wishing to be able to return to this garden in spring, I was reminded, Christopher is steering the 2012 Fling committee, held in Asheville.   It looks very likely that my wish will come true….I’m chalking that off to Hale Mana.

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

Tulipa clusiana ‘Chrysantha’

Name: Tulipa clusiana ‘Chrysantha’

Zones: 5b – 9a

Size: 8 – 12 inches tall

Conditions:   Moist well drained soil while in spring growth.  Hot well-sunned soil during summer dormancy

Perhaps it’s the orange that speaks to me.  I do like orange, especially when it’s combined with a cadmium-colored yellow.  Tulipa chrysantha, sometimes sold under the name, ‘Chrysantha’, is orangey on the outside opening to a yellow inside.  The colors seem to have some spice to them.  Tulipa chrysantha is planted
in Helen’s Haven’s rock garden, front and center, so as not to be missed.  Each spring, these species tulips return to charm me out of winter, leaping me forward into spring.

My original planting of 5 Tulipa chrysantha bulbs has grown as the grouping reproduced offsets, increasing their numbers.

The petals open in proportion to the brightness of the sun.  On overcast days, Tulipa chrysantha will remain partially closed; when doing so, the beauty of the bicolor exterior petals, is on display.  The tiny bulbs like to be planted deep — a full six inches deep.    Tulipa chrysantha may need to be lifted and replanted if they begin to show a slowed performance.

This fall, I plan to add more Tulipa chrysantha and other species Tulips.  They may not pack the punch of a Dutch hybrid tulip, but they offer a lot of pizzazz from such a little bulb; one that just can’t be matched.
Helen  Yoestis a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

The room was old and worn.  There were no freshly painted walls, of some realtor vanilla; rather, they were tattered and tired, as if it was once occupied by another being, abandoned after being bored.

The lightly crusted walls left  a faint feeling of love.  Yes, the space had once been loved; I could feel it. But it’s been a while.  I also could hear the voices of those who spent time in the room.  They were happy voices.  Vines hung from the ceiling; the floor was crunchy and brown.  There was some light in the room, but I couldn’t tell from where it came; perhaps it was covered by vines.

Often, I would fantasize about a room of my own, taking my re-occuring dream and reliving it in the light of day.   Virginia Woolf wanted A Room of One’s Own and I wanted one too.  Even when I wrote about design techniques, I would use the Garden House as an example.

There were many things holding me back. I had to first recognize the room of my own was not within the house; rather, it was a house within the garden.  I will dub her — The Garden House.

Several years ago, I reviewed Debra Prinzing’s book  Stylish Sheds and Elegant Hideaways.  My review included a description of what my room would look like.  This room has been wrapped around my mind, heart, and dreams for far too long, it seemed more of a premonition than just a dream.

About 10 years ago, I sequestered a natural area of our half acre lot for the children’s play set.  At the time, my three kids were 1, 2, and 5 years old.

For about a year now, the kids have been done with their play set.  They tell me it’s time for me to have a room of my own. Happy of course, I mapped out the space for my Garden House and a place to one day also add chickens.  I’ve now found the perfect house, (Market Imports in Raleigh, NC), so I’m  all set. But then those pesky emotions started in.

I’m not often stymied by such emotions, well maybe I’m a bit sentimental.  Most often, I can reason through the emotions with, this was their life then, they have moved on to other interests, and the like. But as I pulled back on the sledge hammer to begin the dismantle, I got a little choked up. There were so many years of fun on this play set. The cousins, neighbors, play dates.

For hours after dark, particularly, by the light of the low voltage lights, added to the oak tree looking down at the play set.  This, of course, was by design to extend many hours of play.  My husband and the kids made up a game called swing ball, where he would throw the ball a the kids feet as they were swinging.  Even the neighborhood friends could be heard laughing and giggling along side of mine saying, Me next, me next.  

The play set had a fort area that served as a teahouse, a place for picnics, as well as, a place to acquire bruised knees and skeeter bites. During the winter, we would make a fire near the play set, gather, and make ‘smores.  We had it down.  It became our routine.

Today, my oldest child is too busy reading her books to care about the play set and the younger two, affectionally known as the babies, only pass by the play set to get to their bikes from the shed. They are done with it.  It’s time to move on. 

I was able to get past my emotions when it dawned on me that the play set will, in part, be used in the Garden House.  Pieces of wood will serve as the footing. And maybe more in the form of a bench or shelf.

As I laid out the dimensions of the Garden House, with some pieces of recycled wood, I noticed the remains of  many summer paint projects,  they were lightly crusted, with a faint feeling of love.  I could hear the voices of those who use to spend time in this room.  There were limbs with branches as thin as vines hanging over my head, blocking my light; as I moved around, the brown mulch crunched under my feet.  Then I realized,  I was standing in my dream.  I was living my dream.  It was then that I knew it was time for me to have a room of my own.

Post script – In anticipation of this week’s delivery, I cleared out the new area and laid out where the Garden Houses will go.  I had to take down a weeping cherry tree and move 3 blueberry bushes.  The bench will be moved to the area behind the Garden House and will be apart of the future design.  In the meantime, most of the play set remains.  I think I need to gather the kids to say our good byes, while toasting ‘smores. 

Coming soon to Helen's Haven™

I    

This is a week of transition.  From my babies to tweens; from dreams to reality.

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

AVAILABLE OCTOBER

Click HERE To Pre-order
Beautiful, frost resistant, high-design container, with organic lines, highlighting the serene and calming beauty of Dicranum moss, Moss Rocks!TM  will be available October 2011.

No longer do you have to settle for dried or faux moss, now you can enjoy the soothing benefits of a living moss for your home decor.  Only live moss will give you a glowing sheen and tactile appeal.

Moss Rocks! are a living sculpture that will enliven your surroundings or make a unique gift for anyone, even the brown thumb on your list.

Designed by David Spain, co-owner of Moss and Stone Gardens — Where Moss Rocks!, Moss Rocks! are a container garden, zen garden, and moss garden all rolled into one neat package to accent your home or office, from your deck to your desk.

Never before has a living moss product, with a suitable container, designed solely for sustaining and displaying such a beautiful species of moss, been developed and available for easy care and transport. ~David Spain

Currently, we are offering Moss Rocks! in three sizes:

Pebble –  2.5 inches; Cobble –  5 inches; and Boulder at 6.5 inches.

Moss Rocks! Care Instructions

Water weekly for best results*

Bright indirect light only**

Moss Rocks! need no soil or fertilizer

*Rainwater or purified water recommended. Even though Moss Rocks!™ can tolerate long periods without water (up to 2 months), it’s recommended to water weekly to maintain a luster.  Misting your Moss Rocks! will maintain their luster, but be sure to periodically pour water through the moss to fill the reservoir.

**Direct sunlight should be avoided between the hours of 12 PM and 4 PM

For more information, contact:

David Spain, rockin’ in the world of moss

Email: info@mossandstonegardens.com

Website: www.mossandstonegardens.com

Facebook: Moss and Stone Gardens™ – where moss rocks™

Twitter: @Moss_Rocks

Google + Moss Rocks

Words: Helen  Yoest

Follow Moss and Stone Gardens – Where Moss Rocks! on Twitter @Moss_Rocks and our Facebook Like page Moss and Stone Gardens – Where Moss Rocks!

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.

As I was finishing a photo shoot at the Biltmore Estate’s Tiffany exhibit and the gardens inspired by the lamps for Country Gardens magazine, I had some time to kill before needing to get to my next appointment.

First on my list of places to go was The Hop, recommended by my friend, Frances at Fairegarden. Here is a post Fairegarden did on Christopher.

After chatting with The Hop’s owners, Greg and Ashley about gardening, I asked if they could suggest a garden for me to visit. They did, recommending Christopher Mello’s garden.

With a belly full of Salted Caramel on a homemade waffle cone, that was the best ever, I headed to Christopher’s garden.

I’m not the best with directions, but I did manage to find Christopher’s garden. It’s fair to say, “You can’t miss it.”

When I arrived at a garden, I did my usual and sought permission to enter, first. Entering one’s garden, is not unlike entering a ship, it’s always best to ask for permission. Calling out, I heard a voice, echoing my hello. Meekly, I ask if it’s OK to visit the garden.

Hidden in a secluded area, on a hot summer day, Christopher Mello stands to greet me. I introduced myself and after getting all the niceties out of the way, we began touring.

When someone learns I work for gardening magazines, I feel the need to manage expectations; no, I wasn’t there on some official capacity; I’m just a girl who loves gardens. But in the case of Christopher, he had no expectation. He was as calm and casual as a cucumber. Sporting a straw hat and wearing killer smile, he was just happy to share his garden with me.

As we chatted and toured, Christopher pulled seeds from plants I admired and as we chatted,  we shared our love for J. C. Raulston and the arboretum bearing his name. In the spirit of J.C., my pockets bulged with seed to spread in my own garden, Helen’s Haven™. Christopher even shared a red clover I admired.

The best gardens I visit are those that express the personality of the gardener. In my mind, you can have the finest from all that the gardening world has to offer, but if it isn’t you , it shows; it’s just another garden…but one without a soul. Christopher’s garden had soul.

The man is an artist, so his personality showed in an artistic way. We gardeners, although have a shared love of the act of gardening, come at gardening in very different ways. I come to gardening through wildlife; Christopher comes to gardening through art. While I collect garden art, Christopher’s garden is art.

I found Christopher to be an enchanting and gifted story teller. I could have spent hours in the 100 degree temperatures, hearing more of his gardening tales; but alas, I needed to get going, and besides, my photo card (and pockets) were full.

With a promise to stay in touch, I left Christopher’s garden. I plan to share with him Bobby J. Ward’s book, Chlorophyll in His Veins, J. C. Raulston Horticultural Ambassador. In the spirit of sharing in the garden, which J. C. was so famous for, and as Christopher did for me, I will do for him. Until we meet again, Christopher…

Helen  Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.