Today I'm on a deadline, so I feel the need to post. I am looking at some pictures that I took in the garden-to-be the other day and thinking about what kinds of transformations I'm going to make, so here they go.
In this photo, we're standing close to the middle of the yard and looking back. It doesn't translate so well onto the two-dimensional image, but the ground slopes up pretty sharply, especially once you get to the big maple on the right. The plan here is to put a low wall around the base of that tree and across the yard, and terrace behind it. (Black thing on left is the composter, which will probably move.) We'll also add lots of dirt in front of the wall, starting about where the green starts in the photo, to create a more or less level surface for grass, flowerbeds, and cavorting.
Here we're standing about at the first tree on the right in the photo above, looking the other direction. You can see the hideous concrete rectangle (yellow arrows) that someone thought was an elegant Versailles-type symmetrical walk. I'm bashing it up with a sledgehammer and pulling it out. That is where a lot of the new dirt will need to go. We will also be taking down the mulberry tree (red arrows) that has grown into the retaining wall in the front of the yard. That I am a bit sad about, but it's going to be a big problem later if we don't do something about it now. Just in front of where I'm standing--the lower left corner of the photo, lower right of the previous photo--will be a small brick and slate patio with some chairs and a brass firepit. Yes, I know the tree roots will destroy it eventually. I still want it, and life is short.
Finally, this is a photo that has nothing whatsoever to do with my garden. Jen and I went to the
march on Washington this weekend, and as we were all standing around waiting for the damn thing to start, our friend Jeff looked up and noticed that in the clear(ish) blue sky above us there was unmistakably a rainbow. This is a crappy picture taken with a cameraphone, but still, you get the idea. I know there is a perfectly scientific, reasonable explanation--bright sun, thin cloud cover, whatever--but it seemed to confirm two things: God in fact LOVES fags, and God is a sappy sentimentalist.
In this photo, we're standing close to the middle of the yard and looking back. It doesn't translate so well onto the two-dimensional image, but the ground slopes up pretty sharply, especially once you get to the big maple on the right. The plan here is to put a low wall around the base of that tree and across the yard, and terrace behind it. (Black thing on left is the composter, which will probably move.) We'll also add lots of dirt in front of the wall, starting about where the green starts in the photo, to create a more or less level surface for grass, flowerbeds, and cavorting.
Here we're standing about at the first tree on the right in the photo above, looking the other direction. You can see the hideous concrete rectangle (yellow arrows) that someone thought was an elegant Versailles-type symmetrical walk. I'm bashing it up with a sledgehammer and pulling it out. That is where a lot of the new dirt will need to go. We will also be taking down the mulberry tree (red arrows) that has grown into the retaining wall in the front of the yard. That I am a bit sad about, but it's going to be a big problem later if we don't do something about it now. Just in front of where I'm standing--the lower left corner of the photo, lower right of the previous photo--will be a small brick and slate patio with some chairs and a brass firepit. Yes, I know the tree roots will destroy it eventually. I still want it, and life is short.
Finally, this is a photo that has nothing whatsoever to do with my garden. Jen and I went to the march on Washington this weekend, and as we were all standing around waiting for the damn thing to start, our friend Jeff looked up and noticed that in the clear(ish) blue sky above us there was unmistakably a rainbow. This is a crappy picture taken with a cameraphone, but still, you get the idea. I know there is a perfectly scientific, reasonable explanation--bright sun, thin cloud cover, whatever--but it seemed to confirm two things: God in fact LOVES fags, and God is a sappy sentimentalist.
