“Gardens are not made by sitting in the shade.”
Rudyard Kipling, 1865 - 1936
True, Mr. Kipling. But at the end of the day, what are the gardens and shade made for, if not for sitting in?
If you know me, you know that my favourite place to sit is my front porch swing—for coffee with a friend; for a warm Sunday afternoon nap; for curling up with a book on an uncharacteristically warm evening (or even wrapped in blankets, on a cool one!) Or one of my kids will stop by for something or other, find me sitting there, and take some time to sit alongside—time I truly cherish.
Other than a half-dozen flower pots, my front yard boasts no colour—the large evergreens that surround it drinking up any moisture that falls, while at the same time providing adequate shade to deter the growth of desirable plants and encourage the moss that threatens to overtake the lawn entirely. However, it does offer “scope for the imagination,” (to quote Anne with an 'e’).
Bordering the street, yet mostly hidden from view by the aforementioned evergreens, my front porch swing is my front-row-seat to the neighbourhood: kids on bikes, with black dogs running behind; teenage girls on horseback; young moms, pushing buggies; families, on evening strolls; lovers, walking hand in hand. . .
Half the interest of a garden is the constant exercise of the imagination.
Mrs. C.W. Earle, Pot-Pourri from a Surrey Garden, 1897