Gardening reflections: post-Asheville Fling

Art studio in the garden of Peter and Jasmin Gentling

After a final post-Fling visit on Monday to Nan Chase's bark house and urban edible landscape (and enjoying an impromptu group visit to our own small house and garden), I found myself musing (again) about how the character of our gardens reflects our spirit, personality, and connections to the world of plants and nature.

Damaris Pierce sculpture at Wamboldtopia

stream (created) at Wamboldtopia

During the Asheville Garden Bloggers Fling, the private gardens that we visited -- remarkably diverse and distinctive from each other - seemed to me to be even more evocative of the personalities of the gardeners/artists than is "usual" on garden tours.  The photos I've included were a few of my own favorites, but weren't taken to evoke the spirit of place  -- check out some of my fellow Fling bloggers posts and the Fling blog for a more extensive view of these gardens.

Part of this may be that we had the pleasure of getting a chance to visit with them in a relaxed way, but perhaps most pertinent is that each garden expressed the distinct artistic vision of the gardener(s).

These were not gardens designed by someone else; these were gardens created for personal enjoyment, but also joyfully shared with others.  They were gardens in progress, where gardening and creating was part of the delight, and change is embraced as part of garden-making.  And the gardening was personal and hands-on -some of the gardens were older, some were newer, but each garden was connected with the gardener(s).

As I look out the study window at the oakleaf hydrangeas in flower (in the Piedmont), I'm reminded of the connections that we make with plants and plant choices, too.

A plant combinations at Christopher Mello's garden (Gnomon)

Visiting gardens in the company of other gardeners reminds me of how different our tastes in plants can be.  A plant that one person loves can often be one that another person dislikes, and the combinations, contrasts, colors, etc. -- isn't it remarkably personal?  And isn't that why we garden, after all?