Butchart Gardens

    A three hour early morning ferry ride from Anacortes, Washington to Sidney, British Columbia took us by the San Juan Islands on our way to the Butchart Gardens. It had been decades since our last visit. We did not see any Orcas during this voyage, they came later. 

    The Gardens had changed somewhat between our visits. The most notable addition was a fountain that performed a majestic, moving display. Evening fireworks were to start there about a week after our visit. This old quarry has been transformed into a magnificent garden. It was here, so many years ago, that my thumb turned even greener. It was the influence of the Butchart Gardens that made me want to have lots more color in my own garden. My usual corn, tomatoes, peas, cucumbers and the rest, while food for the body, were insufficient to feed the soul.

    Another change was the place for afternoon tea. It used to be in the Japanese Garden, in its Tea House. Now a notable tea is served in the restaurant, converted from the the original house. The Japanese Garden itself was not recognizable from many years ago when it then consisted largely of beds of flowers.

    The view of the Sunken Garden from above was as inspiring as before. As I was preparing to take a photograph of a portion of it containing a statue of a female nude, I heard a woman's voice behind me " You would never see a woman taking a picture of that". I indignantly responded with "I was taking a photograph of the Rhododendron" and walked away. So much for art.

   My children gave me a sophisticated digital camera for my birthday just before this vacation. I had not yet mastered all its intricacies and subtleties but it got a real workout at this garden. I found it hard to restrain myself from recording this garden for heaven. If only I had a derelict quarry and Bill Gates' money.

    Some sixty gardeners are at work here. Dividing it by sixty is about what an average gardener may be able to keep up with. Full time. The sole exception to that which I know of are the gardens of Gay and Kees in Tasmania.  My miniscule garden is about all I can take care of. I have given up having an

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