I sat looking at the first garden I have ever owned and his words played around in my head. There was so much light and colour but these were emphasised by the rich dark shadows. Most people would laugh at my garden’s size. It is about ten steps long by three steps wide. Yet the  pride and enjoyment I get from those ten by three steps is extraordinary! But like a lot of beautiful things in life, the beauty had to be worked for and earned.

I moved into Malbar Square, a attractive complex of flats where no pets were allowed. Except for Perdita, my wire-haired dachshund. She is allowed because I am deaf and what a great little guard dog she has turned out to be. I have a small wooden fence placed around my flat so that Perdita doesn’t go merrily sauntering around Malbar Square. Within that fence I have space for my own private garden.

When I was an actor, the stage was my stamping ground. Now my garden is my stage. And it is there that this new director experiments and tries out her new approaches and techniques.

Dad, Mums and a friend, Jean, came around to my flat with shovels, clumps of Mondo Grass, Hydrangeas and Arum Lilies. Outside my door in Durban, I had two trees that sat in pots. When I moved to George the trees accompanied me. Dad dug deep holes and they were introduced to their new home. They must have cheered at getting their roots into the rich George earth, underneath a beautiful sun and sky adorned with mountains. On the pavement, overlooking my apartment was an enormous tree. It overshadowed the whole garden so my plants had to be cast accordingly. The production they were in was one of a greenish tinge. Arum Lilies starred, growing beautifully in their shady environment. It was in December that my Hydrangeas, grabbed what little sun there was, and smiled out at the world.

“The shadow is the greatest teacher for how to come to the light,” Ron Dass remarked.
A good friend of mine, Jans, helped my garden throw off unnecessary shade and ‘lighten up’.

She studied my garden and said to me: “You don’t show much interest in your garden. I think it’s because you can’t get at it.”
She was right. The Arum Lilies and Hydrangeas grew next to the fence which made them easy to water and pick. The rest of the garden just grew without my having much say in the matter. Jans is doer and thrives on manual labour. The next day, she arrived armed with a wheelbarrow, rake, spade and plenty of black bags.
“What are bin liners for?” I inquired.
“You’ll see,” Jans replied already setting at my garden with a rake. She cut back, re-planted and I discovered that my garden had a mass of unwanted growth which I helped pack into the bags. I certainly found out what they were for. We went off to a nursery where I picked out tiles which Jans embedded into my soil making a definite path through my garden. We stood looking at the finished product. The whole garden seemed to breathe more easily. I could now stroll through it, watering jug in hand, admiring and adjusting on my way.

There was a commotion outside and Perdita was barking madly.
They were chopping down the big old tree that overshadowed my garden. It came away in bits that were black inside. I love trees but the fact that this was rotten somehow made it easier to see it go. And with the tree gone, my stage changed! I could now put on productions that were light hearted in colour. The radiance spilled into my garden displaying places that had never known the taste of sun. It positively seemed to be gleaming in the newly discovered rays. With the light, colour entered my garden with force. 

I could now have plants that loved the sun! I could put on productions that instantly put a smile in your heart. I wanted a yellow daisy bush. My friends didn’t share my love of yellow daisy bushes but I was desperate for one. I bought it home from the nursery and ENTER GEORGE and ESAU!!! Together in my complex, they garden, fix what needs fixing, remonstrate with me for going out on a cold day without a jersey, and are just wonderful, giving individuals. George saw me with a shovel in my hand and instantly berated me in Afrikaans.
“No, no, Gaynor, you don’t do that well. I will do it.” He planted my daisy bush while I made us both a cup of coffee. My yellow daisy bush got bigger as the months moved on but the daisies didn’t seem as prolific as I’d seen on other daisy bushes.
‘This needs thinking about,’ I mused.
I discovered the joy of Gazanias. How I love their bright purple, orange and gold faces sparkling back at the sun! I planted blue and pink daisy bushes and my Arum Lilies simply took off, sprouting like mad all over the garden. 

Before I left for England this June, George and Esau approached me.
“Your garden is looking a mess,” George informed me. He certainly didn’t mince his words!
“While you’re away, we will get your garden looking like a woman with a new hat!” said Esau. “She will look truly beautiful!”
“Okay,” I laughed, “go for it!”

“If you don’t have any shadows, you’re not in the light.”  – Lady Gaga

I returned in July to a garden that was different and beautiful in so many ways. The Mondo Grass which had taken over my whole garden was now a thing of the past. My yellow daisy bush which had grown to epic proportions with very few daisies had been cut in half and was now blooming incredibly. The garden’s beautiful new hat sent shimmers of joy rippling throughout!

Recently, Jans and I went off to the nursery to get my birthday present. Jans was buying me a rose. I had my heart set on a yellow one but Jans showed me a variety she liked. I can best describe it as antique plum in colour. I fell in love and splashed out on a beautiful container for it. I was told that I had to soak it in water for the first week. Religiously I would feed Perdita in the mornings and then the watering of my rose would begin. It was not a case of simply emptying a jug of water over my rose. Oh no, watering your rose is far more complex. You pour water into the pot and then have to wait while the rose slurps it up. Then you pour more, wait and more. That first week ‘Rose’ drank and drank and positively seemed to flourish. A couple of days ago, I noticed that Rose is pregnant. She has four buds, each encased in their own small, tightly furled cocoon. I get such immense pleasure coming out to greet Rose and inspect her brood each morning.

Why does this garden of mine now give me so much pleasure? My walking is not all that steady along the little paved path Jans has planted. The fault obviously being mine not the little paving stones beckoning me forward. Every time I look at my garden, I glory in the vibrant colours literally calling out to me: “Hey there, Gaynor, isn’t this sun great?” or “Gaynor, I haven’t got time to chat. This rain is totally delicious!”
I always speak in a soft tone when I speak to Rose. After all she has four babies on their way!

I look at my garden and I glory in the production it is staging. It is not perfect and that is what I love about it. It is like us humans. It has beautiful places and spots that you can work on endlessly. There are places of light and shadow. 

That is how it’s meant to be.

“There is no light without shadow and no psychic wholeness without imperfections.” – C.S. Jung

The post Shade and Light! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

“A garden should make you feel you’ve entered privileged space – a place not just set apart but reverberant – and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry.”

For fourteen years, I lived in Durban. My flat looked out at the most stunning view of the beautiful green racecourse, the city of Durban and miles of enchanting blue, green and silver sea.
But it didn’t have a garden.
Inside my flat I tried to create my own ‘garden’. I had beautiful trees and numerous pot plants that flourished within the confines of my flat. When I decided to move to George, Mums assured me that there would be no room for trees in my apartment. I was loathe to get rid of those beautiful creatures so down to George they came.

I moved to an apartment with a communal garden. Dogs weren’t allowed but – I am deaf. So I was granted special dispensation. Enter Perdita, my wire haired dachshund! I can’t tell you how much safer I feel with Perdita. She lets me know the instant someone is around. Her joy at seeing George, our gardener, overflows in this madly welcoming bark. Strangers on the other hand are given a much fiercer welcome, as far as that is possible when you are so endearing! I erected this sweet wooden fence, about knee high, to keep Perdita safe. It has encapsulated my own private piece of land.

I decided to convert Perdita’s fenced off area into a garden! Unfortunately it fell within the shade of this gorgeous Oak tree. Therefore I was not able to have heaps of flowering plants as I wished. So Mums, Dad and I planted things that grew in the shade – Arum Lily’s , Hydrangeas and a mass of Agapanthus. And my Durban trees settled quite contentedly into my garden casting their heads up towards the magnificent mountains.

My garden has been growing beautifully, prospering and flourishing in every direction. Green, green and more green! But I never thought of planning it in any way. I couldn’t walk in it as I was bound to damage something. It grew in this ramshackle, disorganised manner.

“The need for change bulldozed a road down the centre of my mind. ”
Maya Angelou.

I often go round to my friend, Jans, in the mornings to fill myself with delicious coffee and wonderful biscuits. Recently she started work on her garden. Beautiful beds with the most entrancing plants are raising their heads in this new, interesting environment.
“Would you please help me reorganise and plan my garden, Jans? Then I can get George, our gardener, to help and we will be able to create some order amongst my green chaos?”
“Your input would be great, G, but George and I will do the tough stuff! You can direct. You’re good at that!”
I acquiesced readily!

Jans inspected my garden. “It could be lovely, G. At the Outeniqua Market on Saturday, we will buy some new plants that grow in the shade. There is a lot that needs to be pulled out and rearranged. George and I will get to work on Monday.”

I bought two white Begonias, a mass of these exquisitely pink, green and white leafed plants, Hypoestea, I prefer their other name: Freckle Faced Plants! Doesn’t that sound so characterful? I also bought a gorgeous tree that will grow in the corner, outside my bedroom window. It has white flowers that are ringed in a soft gentle pink. However my favourite are two beautiful ‘cabbage’ leafed plants in this striking crimson, lighter red and lime green, Coleus. They seem to radiate a kind of joy in this miniature garden of mine.

Monday dawned in a perfect gardening manner. George arrived with his wheelbarrow in tow, smiling broadly. Jan brushed her hands together as she surveyed the green mass before her. She had the same look on her face that she has before she cleans her kitchen floor: There is going to be no fooling with me. I am going to get you neat, tidy and organised.
And so the work in my garden began.

Jans was rummaging around near my drain, removing a whole lot of gruck when all of a sudden she gave a shout: “Holy Moses, look what I’ve found!”
She held in her hands the most beautiful little rock that looked as if it’s middle had been gently scooped out by God. “G, we have just found you the most wonderful bird bath!”
That bird bath now sits in pride of place at the entrance to my garden.

My friend, B and I were instructed to shoot off to buy paving stones and pebbles . We returned to a much changed garden. George’s wheelbarrow was full and my garden seemed to have an order and at the same time a lusciousness to it. Jans aligned my paving stones and pebbles to suit my unique gait. We then decided where I wanted to place my new cherished foliage. I am the sort of person that speaks to her plants:
“How would you like to grow here? I think this would suit you. You can show of your technicolored coat for all to see!”
“I would love it if you grew outside my bedroom window. In the mornings when I lie sipping coffee, my eyes will fall on you and your beautiful foliage. It would make my day start with a smile!”

Jans and George stood back a couple of hours later and surveyed their handiwork. And grinned.
I had a garden, a beautiful, colourful enchanting garden that I could stroll around each day with my watering can in hand and delight in my heart.

“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”
Maya Angelou

Making a garden is a bit like life.
You can’t have ‘foliage’ growing in every which way. You must throw out and discard what is needless. You have to have some sort of order in your life, in your relationships. There are new people that enter your life. They might be showy and outgoing. It is underneath “in their soil”  that one discovers their vulnerability that calls for tender attention.

I look at my new garden with tremendous pride and delight. Jan and George showed me what goes into making a garden – love!

“Love life. Engage in it. Give it all you’ve got. Love it with a passion because life truly does give back, many times over, what you put into it.”
Maya Angelou

The post My Garden of Love! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

“The answer is that we are not helpless in the face of our first impressions. They may bubble up from the unconscious – from behind a locked door inside of our brain – but just because something is outside of awareness doesn’t mean it’s outside of control.”

Her spine was curved as a broken tree trunk. Face weathered and her mouth over large for her face and longed for the filling of teeth. Her river-silver hair sat in odd clumps on her head. I marvelled at her ugliness. It was odd but she actually contained her own kind of beauty. She sank to her knees next to a flower bed as she reached out a gnarled hand and pulled at the weeds embedded in front of her.
I regularly passed this lady working in her garden. The seasons changed and so did her garden. Once I passed her home and I saw that she had a gardener with her.
“Ah, I’m glad to see that today you have some help. What on earth are you planting?” There were mounds of earth everywhere.
The lady gave a chuckle. “Wait and see!” She had a low, deep voice. “In summer you’ll get a lovely surprise.”
We smiled at each other and I moved on. A couple of months later, I was returning from a friend’s home and I took the road leading past her house. My little old lady was there filling her bird bath. What a sight met my eyes! I gave a gasp of unadulterated delight. Purple-blue Irises crowded the garden surrounding her. They were everywhere. An amused chuckle accompanied those blue eyes as the woman waved me forward.
“Would you like to take a look? Come!” She held out her hand and I took her arm as I entered into her garden. It was a mass of bruised purple blooms. The tall, beautiful iris, named after the Greek goddess who rode rainbows, gently moved in the breeze. A yellow butterfly lazily flitted amongst the petals. “I told you that in summer you would get a surprise,” she said laughing softly. “I love my garden. Each day I am presented with a different surprise. It might be a butterfly, a humming bird, a gardenia…who knows?” The blue eyes twinkled at me from that beautiful face.
I was reminded that day never to judge by first impressions. They can be so misleading. At the moment, her garden is overflowing with daffodils and tulips. And a lovely little old woman with piercing blue eyes…..

The post The Goddess of Rainbows! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

       The male birds are a beautiful bright yellow in colour. The females are a mousy green. This probably explains their stroppiness over the nests. “Yah, you might be a good looking hunk, but can hunks build good houses? I think NOT!”

       B and John regularly “borrow” a little Jack Russell, Rainbow. What a character that dog is! She is the only dog I’ve ever come across that actually pulls her mouth into a cheeky grin. She loves bringing this stick for you to throw in the stream. Then quick as a flash she is in after it and the wet stick is deposited at your feet with a wagging Rainbow ready for the whole process to begin again. It’s fine for the first couple of times but after the fourth or fifth throw one has had enough. It is then a case of: “No, Rainbow, I’ve finished throwing your stick now.You go and amuse yourself.” And she does. She takes the stick onto the bridge and then nudges it so that it falls off the bridge into the water. It’s then a case of: ‘Ah, the stick has been thrown into the water. I’ll fetch it!’ She runs off the bridge, dives into the stream, joyfully collects the stick and the whole process begins again! I have included a video of Rainbow, the bridge and the stick. You will smile out loud!

The post Rainbow, the Bridge & the Stick! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.