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68 H & G

The garden Mary Lenox discovered in Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden is a mass of tangled branches andovergrown vines, but the sense of wonder and delight and herensuing adventures in the garden made an indelible imprint on my child’s mind and heart. Although I may not haverecalled Mary’s moment the day I stood in the scrubby clearingthat nature had provided deep in the scrub oaks on our propertyin Polpis, I felt her excitement as I recognized the perfect spotfor my own secret garden.

Coming up our winding driveway, you would never suspectthat buried off to your left in the wild tangle of silver scrub oaksand underlying brush lies a secret oasis of lush color and texture. The drive brings you around to the back of the houseif you live here, or into a circle at the front if you are visiting.Most visitors park in the circle and follow the wide stone pathup to our front porch, unaware of the delights that await onlya few steps in the opposite direction. Because I like you andknow that you will appreciate it, I invite you to see my secretgarden.

As I lead you away from the house around a stand of Forsythia and under the branches of an arching Buddleia, thefirst hint of the delights to come is the sweet scent of honeysuckle that you soon discover draping the arched trellisof my garden gate. We stop just outside the gate, where I oftenstand quietly in the early morning or evening looking for signsof those pesky baby rabbits that on occasion manage tosqueeze through my lines of defense and eat every fresh shootand tender leaf in sight. Attached to either side of the gate, aneight foot-high deer fence threads through the trees, an all butinvisible barricade reinforced along the bottom with finechicken wire. Your first impression of the garden is one ofcolor. In the spring, fresh, bright green is dotted with both theprimary and pastel hues of Tulips, Daffodils and Hyacinths,followed shortly by the deeper greens that accompany the Iris,Allium, Peony, Delphinium, Foxglove and Lupine. With thewarmer days of summer comes a full spectrum of color, fromorange Oriental Lilies, yellow Yarrow, blue Baptesia and Liatris to the softer pink and violet of Phlox. As summer wanes,your eye picks out rusty Sedum, pink Echinecea, sunny Black-Eyed Susan and the dusty greens of autumn.

Then she slipped through the door and shut it behind her, and stood with her back against it, looking about her, and

breathing quite fast with excitement, and wonder and delight.She was inside the secret garden.

H & G 69

Welcome to MySecret Garden

by Kathryn Kayphotos courtesy of Kathryn Kay

Welcome to MySecret Garden

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The click of the gate latch behind us is a sound to which my earis attuned; without it, the garden is an open invitation to the entire rabbit population. I have learned the hard way and nowsympathize with Peter Rabbit’s Mr. McGregor. We take a fewsteps on pine-scented bark mulch to the beginning of the stonepath, which my husband Robert and I laid one January weekend using stone left over from a new living room fireplace, and which circles through the garden, separating itinto four quadrants. At our feet an antique stone gardengnome peeks out from beneath a fan of Iris leaves. We stepfrom stone to stone, each linked to the next by a velvet spreadof creeping moss and bordered by Coral Bells, Ladies Mantle and Catmint.

On our right, dusty green succulents spill from a verdigris urn,and to the left, my prize rose bush is resplendent with yellowbuds that blossom with brilliant tangerine petals — its nametaglong since buried or carried away to the compost heap. A hybrid tea, it is the only rose bush remaining from the originalplanting seven years ago, the other four (two white, one pink,one yellow) having been replaced following bouts of root rotor some other unhappiness. In front of, my garden shed

beckons, its door propped open with a watering can. It is atiny post and beam refuge that my husband built for me withscavenged materials that include antique wide-plank flooringout of a house in Pennsylvania, a wooden gutter and copperdownspout from when our house was built, and an orphaned window and door that came our way. You can feelits sturdy bones as you step inside, and the smell of old woodconvinces you that it’s been there for generations. Although Irarely use more than a trowel, small spade and wire rake,there are larger shovels and hoes in one corner, all but forgottenbehind bundles of coiled chicken wire. Random nails hold thesmaller hand tools, dirt-caked gardening gloves and myfrayed but beloved straw hat.

Leaving the shed, we have a view of the opposite end of thegarden, where two weathered Adirondack chairs face us fromthe edge of the shade bed with its ferns, Hosta, Cimicifuga,Astilbe and Foxglove. Many a cup of tea has been sipped inthose chairs as I’ve sat contemplating either life or the garden,at times each reflecting the other. The beauty of an unruly garden has taught me tolerance, if not appreciation, for thedisruptive and sometimes messy aspects of human life.

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we

lco

me

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my

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The click of the gate

latch behind us is a sound

to which my ear is attuned;

without it, the garden is

an open invitation to the

entire rabbit population.

I have learned the hard way

and now sympathize

with Peter Rabbit’s

Mr. McGregor.

... my prize rose bush

is resplendent with yellow buds

that blossom with

brilliant tangerine petals —

its nametag long since buried

or carried away

to the compost heap.

H & G 73

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Although the road is not so far away, the rustle of leaves andthe jingle of wind chimes suspend the sounds of traffic rushingto town or Wauwinet. You murmur something about peace andtranquility as you take a seat and admire the Japanese maplethat graciously shades an English garden bench in one cornerof the garden, and the Clematis-covered lattice windbreak thatforms the opposite corner.

I can see the garden has captured you, and I have a sensethat, like so many before you, you will be reluctant to leave —my secret garden.

Kathryn Kay is the founder of the Nantucket Writers Studio,

which offers writing workshops, editing services and coaching.

www.nantucketwritersstudio.com508-325-7778