In the gnome of fantasy
Fairy gardens going to pots
I have been giving a lot of thought to fairy gardens. Or gnome gardens. Or little animal gardens. Or just plain miniature gardens; whatever your/ my heart desires. For the sake of continuity I will use the term fairy gardens.
If you aren’t really sure what I’m talking about, just Google it. You’ll find pictures and tips for little garden scenes starting as small as a teacup. I’m thinking (wistfully, longingly and, hopefully, realistically) that maybe making fairy gardens could satisfy both my gardening and my creative itch.
The grandchildren enjoyed it very much, probably just about as much as I did poking around thrift store and dollar stores searching for tiny elements to inspire little children with big imaginations.
It’s sort of like playing house and growing things at the same time. The grandchildren enjoyed it very much, probably just about as much as I did poking around thrift store and dollar stores searching for tiny elements to inspire little children with big imaginations.
Creation unbounded
More than half of the props I bought weren’t even used, and there was too much excitement and not enough patience for the succulents and finer plant points. I didn’t have any pictures to show them and I didn’t treat it as a ‘how to make a fairy garden’ class. I spread out the items, told them the concept and let them go to it.
They had their pick of a main plant and all picked the same one, colourful coleus. We were going to try some different themes but then the sun came out and I could barely get the pots placed outdoors before the kids were gone with the wind.
Maybe I could be happy with the St. John’s garden as a “Secret Garden”; a giant garden for gnomes and fairies to live with little hidden grottos and places and surprises for children to find. Maybe I could stop feeling guilty for letting everything go wild, even though I know I couldn’t tame it if I was at it every day.
I might stop hating myself for allowing the old house foundation to be torn down in Heart’s Content and for not realizing that ‘filling in the banks’ meant fill unless otherwise specified;
ugly rocky fill that doesn’t even attract weeds.
I could stop being embarrassed and ashamed of how little I actually get done out of all the things I think or say I’m going to do. At least I could have the sense to keep my mouth shut.
Which I should do now. About fairy gardens. But as usual, I am “off with the fairies.”
Maybe a person could start by looking for ideas about trying to make little gardens in ugly fill. Maybe a person shouldn’t share all of the pictures in her mind’s eye until she actually makes some of them real.
Maybe a person could start by gathering together a few odd containers like an old enamel pan or an old drawer, a suitcase or wheelbarrow. Shallow containers are better than the pots I used with the grandchildren
because you don’t need nearly as much soil. I just happened to have four decent size pots of soil that I hadn’t gotten around to planting anything in (big surprise) so we used pots.
Hypothetically playing in the dirt
This hypothetical person could actually sit at the old table on her deck with a glass of wine and play in the dirt with small plants and all manner of little figures and rocks and bits of driftwood and stuff repurposed to make a scene or a village.
I divide fairy gardens into two categories; all natural or not. In
theory I think I prefer the first, but some of those little garden accessories are awfully sweet.
I’ve never been much for unnatural-looking garden ornaments but I guess, like most things, it depends on what they are and how they’re used; a garden gnome looks much more at home peeking out from an old tree stump surrounded with moss or ivy than stuck all by itself in the middle of a lawn.
If you’ve gone off with the fairies, or any kind of miniatures, pictures please.
Maybe I could be happy with the St. John’s garden as a “Secret Garden”; a giant garden for gnomes and fairies to live with little hidden grottos and places and surprises for children to find.