Not A Garden Enslaved To

Not A Garden Enslaved To

“This isn’t a garden you’re a slave to; this is a garden you enjoy, where dogs can run around,” says Hollander, just as our surly cavachon, Phyllis, relieves herself on the geranium rozanne. “It’s pretty, not perfect.” -AD

[ see reference article and link(s) below ]
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Gardens, there is something about them that reminds us of a lost place and time.

The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. (Genesis 2:15)

It was a garden where God, a very almighty God, came walking in the “cool of the day” just to talk with Adam and Eve but found them hiding from Him.

Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden. (Genesis 3:8)

Bonus Wisdom:

Wow, is that mom holding herself on the lap?

At their home in East Hampton, mother/daughter duo Candice Bergen and Chloe Malle find common ground—and room to craft – AD

Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever. (Ecclesiastes 1:4)

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Opinion Unto Righteousness
www.enumclaw.com / Proverbs 18:2 / Timothy Williams

Concept of Enumclaw.com
Tuesday.13.March.2018

Article Reference

(architecturaldigest.com)—very now and then a Bunny can be spotted hopping across my family’s East Hampton garden. Usually it’s morning, when the creature is hungry, lured by the prospect of breakfast. She is also, I should clarify, human—Bunny being the nickname my mother, Candice Bergen, has used for me (and I for her) for over 15 years.
For nearly as long, she and I have shared the lawn that separates the cottage, where I stay with my husband, Graham, from the main house, which was built by my stepfather, Marshall Rose, and his late wife, Jill. Ten years ago, Candy and Marsh set about updating the gardens with landscape architect Edmund Hollander. “The man works on vast farms, incorporating Henry Moore bronzes into rolling hills,” the elder Bunny admits. “We stepped up and said, ‘We’d like you to refresh two acres!’ And he did.”
Hollander divided the lawn with a white picket fence and a border of hydrangea and Japanese anemones, beyond which he created a secret garden of shade plants, wide-leaf hostas, and ostrich ferns beneath the 150-year-old maples. “Every property tells a story, and this story was the trees,” recalls Hollander, who trucked in a 35-foot sycamore from New Jersey, causing a temporary closure of the George Washington Bridge. The apple trees that line the property’s perimeter were an anniversary gift to my mother from Marshall. Meanwhile, the border garden (conceived by Jill and landscape designer Jane Lappin, who still tends to it) is the yard’s colorful crown, with loose tiers of hollyhocks, dahlias, and snapdragons. – AD