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There's something about a bare patch of land that induces a wild rush of adrenalin deep within me. I'm inspired by the dreams and plans ahead - the infinite number of gardening possibilities. I could have a formal garden with rows of immaculate box hedging, or a tropical jungle of fascinating foliage, or a romantic field of wildflowers. The garden I'm
about to create could evoke a sense of history, the importance of things past, or look adventurously to the future, with all its uncertainties.
Now before I get carried away with the emotion of the moment, I should tell you that my bare patch of land is no gardener's paradise right now. It does however, have a water view. However, it's not one you'd pay good money for. We moved into our new home yesterday, on possibly the wettest day Auckland has had this winter. The entire section is a bog - and I'm not exaggerating! It is so mushy, you can slide the entire blade of a spade into the ground with no resistance. But I'm an optimist - at least I realise I have some serious drainage problems to overcome and I won't have to wait until next winter to watch my plants drown. I've taken some 'before' photos but until they're developed you'll have to do with a description. The section is small and in a natural dip (hence the soggy soil).It has an area probably about ten metres long and three metres wide in front of the house. Half of this is taken up by an unattractive concrete carpark. I'm not yet quite sure how this aesthetic eyesore is going to be disguised! Along one side of the house runs the driveway, with a long narrow strip on the other. Out the back is a garage (built by Frank Spencer, we suspect - but that's another story altogether!) and a square patch of grass currently dominated by the washing line. The plantlife is minimal, and what is there is pretty awful by anyone's standards. Ninety percent of the area is covered with kikuyu grass, the rest is either canna lilies or wild ginger (I'm hoping it's canna, if it's invasive ginger it will have to go). There's also a giant purple tree against the house, which my grandmother says is a toxic weed. Obviously, that's facing extinction too. This, I feel, is also good. A blank canvas is much easier to work with than someone else's half finished painting. Go To Page: 1 2
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