Back here in Kigali. . .

We have orchids in the acacia tree.
34 orchids

1c orchids

These two clumbs of orchids came out of the big old Norfolk pine that used to grow at the entrance to the terrace. (It was cut down a year and a half ago when it was clear it was dying.)

1 orchids

When we wired them onto the acacia, the gardener said the flowers were yellow, but I really didn’t think I’d ever see them bloom.

1a orchids

1b orchids

5 orchids

Another change: at the end of the long lawn (below), we have added two tall pots to set off a trio of pine trees.

10 pots

I will plant something tall to the right of the trees/pots grouping.

12 pots

At the other end of the lawn, I placed this single tall pot. I will enlarge the planting area at the base of the traveller’s palm and add some stones to make a level base for the pot.

13 pots

And finally, I faced the fact that my stepping stones and grass arrangement (below) on the right side of the entrance to the terrace just didn’t work. (The aforementioned Norfolk pine used to fill this area.)


We (meaning the gardener mostly) took up all the grass and stones . . .

21 front

and we replanted (meaning me) with the same plants that are in the borders around the driveway:

front circle

Mexican sage, small pink shrub roses (like ‘The Fairy’), datura, lambs’ ear, and yellow day lilies.

23 front

I’m still working on the placement of the pots. Please stay tuned.

Still a strange pageant . . .

While researching Dr. Seuss the other day, I realized why this acacia tree on our street had so grabbed my attention back in November.

Go, Dog. Go! by P.D. Eastman was one of my favorite books as a child; I was always surprised by the dog party at the end. [Click here for the image.]

During one of my landscape design classes, another student recalled a lecture by a famous landscape artist (I think it was Martha Schartz) who said that the garden we really want is the one that reflects the places we knew before the age of five. I don’t know how accurate her paraphrase was, but the idea is something to think about. And the landscapes of our early years will have to include those we saw night after night in storybooks.

I imagine the earth when I am no more:
Nothing happens, no loss, it’s still a strange pageant. . . .
Yet  the books will be there on the shelves, well born,
Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.
‎‎– Czeslaw Milosz, from “And Yet the Books