“As I leave the garden, I take with me a renewed view. And a quiet soul.”

The last time I wrote, we were sailing towards Dunedin along the coast of Southern New Zealand. Several weeks have slipped by, and the all-too-familiar rain and windy weather marked our last week onboard, thwarting our plans again. Instead of garden walks, roses, and majestic trees in Dunedin and Tasmanian gardens, extra days were spent cruising the Tasman Sea and The Bass Strait, enjoyed only as the social buzz within the ship. It was disappointing to miss anticipated stopovers, and I had looked forward to a return visit to Hobart Botanical Gardens, but the day was a washout, and Dunedin’s weather was so severe that we did not dock there at all.

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.
Martin Luther King Jr.

With more spare time than expected, there are plenty of hours to consider the next few months of gardening during the best season of them all in autumn. Usually, the season to stop and smell the roses that perhaps were a bit shy to open fully in the summer heat. Mango Tango is glorious in late April, and the colours shed a glow in the Autumn light. Mango Tango is an abundant bloomer by Kordes with a 4 1/2 star health rating by Treloar Roses. It has the advantage of thriving in semi-shaded positions and handles growing in pots or containers.

However, this year is different because we have decided the time has come to relocate, and I will have to leave my rose garden behind. It is a bittersweet decision because my roses have given me so much joy, peace, and happiness. Over the years, the garden has delivered a considerable learning curve from all the challenges, and I’ve absorbed a vast amount, mostly from my mistakes. However, leaving one’s garden opens the door or gate to new challenges and opportunities for growing other plants in a different climate. It provides a clean slate to do things differently, and one would hope better. This I await with pleasure.

Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together. You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.

I have treasured and am so grateful for the time I’ve had to create a peaceful garden on a rural property. I have been fortunate to be able to garden to my heart’s content for some time now. It was a unique experience that supplied a bounty of roses and a beautiful landscape around the farmhouse for us to enjoy. It has given me a deeper understanding of nature and the changing seasons, but circumstances dictate that change is essential. So, the days at sea were an opportunity to plan what aspects of the garden we could move. And yes, there will be a new garden with roses in a cooler climate, perhaps not as vast, but a garden nonetheless.

You may read between the lines and wonder if I’m glazing over the significance of moving away from something into which I have poured my heart and soul and, at times, blood, sweat, and tears, but I am excited and optimistic that change is mostly a good thing. Having to leave a garden is a reminder of the transient nature of what we create, and each day in the garden is but a moment in time—short-lived and momentary.

“A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself.”
Mary Sarton

During the long nights of darkness on the ship, especially the last week when the sea sent the ship dipping and lurching through the massive swell, there were many hours of open eyes and time for planning my new garden. I thrive on new challenges and look forward to creating a garden in a cooler region with many beautiful deciduous trees, still in the country but less intense and remote. Rose images and snapshots from the rural garden will still be here from time to time, and we will visit as much as we can, which is comforting.

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”
Albert Einstein

Relocating treasured rose plants from different areas can be problematic because moving the soil brings weed bulbs and seeds. Thankfully, I have quite a few roses growing in containers and pots so that they can be moved easily, but only a few will be taken from the garden beds until mid-winter. When the roses are fully dormant, I will dig the special ones out, cut the roots back and then replant them as bare-root roses. Before then, there will be much to do to ensure the right plants are chosen and the weeds don’t follow us.

Gardens are monuments to our existence. To garden is to mark the earth, to say “ I was here”. The impulse that drives gardeners is not so much an impulse to control or tame nature but an impulse to control and tame time.

The new garden will be a microcosm of the expanse of roses, gazebos, archways, perennials, lawns, and herbs that I’ve tended to in recent years. There are several design features to consider, including a courtyard, a poolside garden, and many plants I have not grown previously: hellebores, camellias, and a wide native border, as well as a water fountain, strawberry boxes and vegetables.

“Shadows stretch, and petals reach, in quiet corners, gardens teach.”
Nathaniel Bard

While the upheaval of moving goes on, the garden may be at the back of my mind, but I know I will create another garden and fall in love with it in time. Like all gardens, I will spend many hours with my hands in the earth, enjoying the connection with nature and learning more about cool-climate gardening.