(April 29, 2026) We are enjoying a rainy and gloomy Sunday here at Rivendell, past the mid-point of April. I’m not minding the rain, it’s been soft showers watering all the perennials, vines, and bushes I have planted. I am watching showers through the front window of my writing room; the green branches of the trees drooping a bit with the water. Perfect timing, as yesterday I completed the planting. I thought so anyway, until I came across a package of Daffodil bulbs that need to be put in. That will be a minor task, tucking them in around the bed of Spider Lily bulbs. They came with directions from the bulb company to plant on arrival. I have read that Daffodil bulbs will repel the squirrels from digging up and munching the other bulbs, as they dislike the taste. Fingers crossed. Though blood meal sprinkled heavily in the bulb area seems to be keeping them away.
All in all, the gargantuan task of creating new garden(s) in our new surround and supplementing the flower beds in the front yard is completed for this spring. I set a deadline for a few reasons, and I have met it. It has been a monumental push, beginning on February 14, when our first trees were planted; and a crew dug the sod out from around the existing pecan tree, creating the large, round bed, the main garden in the backyard. From there it’s been sculpting out two additional garden areas in the back, adding soil to all three backyard gardens, further amending of the soil, cleanup of other areas, and planting bushes in the gardens and beds. Stones added for texture, groundcover planted, and all the perennials, roses, vines, and one variety of annuals planted. Stepping-stones put in, stone pads laid, decomposed granite for erosion control, more perennials, more bushes; it’s been a job. A huge job that encompassed two months and most of my time and energy. I am grateful to have had the help of some strong guys to do the heaviest work. And foolishly, I did some of the heavy stuff myself, but it’s done, and Tylenol works wonders. The baseline of the first-year garden is in place. Now we’ll see where it grows.
In February, digging a hole for a one-gallon plant was nearly as much as I could manage. Now I am digging holes for three and five gallons, albeit with lots of sweat and tired muscles, but the work has been good strength training.
To begin the gardens, I’ve used easy maintenance plants that have worked for me in the past. In the years to come, I’ll add in new perennials and bushes here and there. Because a garden is never done. I will also be relearning about plants for dappled sun and part shade, as that is what’s here. I am so thankful for mature trees. Not having full sun makes growing plants more of a challenge, and it seems I love a challenge in gardening! I will be studying and learning.
The garden has grown visibly in these weeks. Photos that I shot last week are not nearly the fullness that we see today.
Gazing from the bedroom window is a treat these days. It is the sweet time of year when the growth bursts swiftly, and our eyes fill with green textures, soft colors, brilliant blooms. I wonder how I can look at the same things every day and continue to be enchanted; and yet, every day my heart leaps. It’s a classic love story, beginning anew each spring. In late winter, I see bits of green pushing up from the earth, green haze of leafing out forms on deciduous bushes and vines, and I experience the eager anticipation of what is to come. Now fully into spring I am in the fresh beginning of love, when everything is lush and bewitching, and each day grows more so. I know the summer is coming, when I’ll plod through, still enjoying the stalwart bloomers, and yet there are plants to cut back, weeds to pull, aphids to discourage. Love is not sustained without some work. In mid to late September, temperatures begin to moderate and the perennials that have slept for a month or so, drugged by the intense heat, begin to perk up and put out new blossoms. Then I relish the autumn of the garden’s life. Plants are mature, the garden is mellow. Let’s not think about the long winter months, which in perspective, are not terribly long here. December and January. Warmth began in February this year. I am grateful as I was able to take measured risks and plant a good bit early in the season.
What I miss is the character of a mature garden, the nooks and crannies created as time passes. That will come. I’ll learn to be patient again, waiting.
It is a beautiful place, becoming more lovely each day. And even when spots are still filling in, when the plants are new and not at full potential, my eyes fill with the beauty. I am thankful the hard work is completed. I’ll be spending as much time as I can in the hot months, drinking iced water or a San Pellegrino on the patio, filling my eyes with the garden, while Bob wanders and snoops for anoles or snoozes in the heat.
The spring is passing by so quickly. Stop and take a moment to sit in a green space, or a garden overflowing with color, breathe, delight in new life.
By contributing writer Sally Kilgore. Find more of her “Kukka” columns at BlueRibbonNews.com. Sally is married to her long-time flame, Judge Chris Kilgore. Sally’s work is published in The Dallas Morning News, Blue Ribbon News, Persimmon Tree, and Orchards Poetry. Sally writes a blog on her website, SallyAKilgore.com. You may contact her by email via her website.
Kukka by Sally Kilgore: Gardens at Rivendell – A New Beginning added by Editor on
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