Shortly after we moved into this house in 2010, my mom came for a visit. She made this rock garden for me as a labor of love, fighting to claim the ground from the grass, and I have kept it up (with much help!) ever since. In Maine, the fields are surrounded by walls, made from the rocks the farmers take out of the ground. Ecuadorian soil is not rocky, so we bought a dump truck load instead.
I inherited some money from my mother's mother, who I called Whizzie, which Byron and I invested in this land. From the moment we purchased it, I wanted to do a memorial garden. My brother-in-law, who helps with the gardening sometimes, calls this the Inca Walk, but to me, it's more like Grandma's Garden. Whizzie helped me buy it, my mom helped me build it, and I planted it with marigolds in memory of my other grandmother, Joyce, who used to line her driveway with them every year.
No comments:
Post a Comment