Sometimes I forget exactly how lucky I am to have this garden, this spectacular view. All I have to do to remember, though, is think of the first time I saw it. I remember how romantic it felt to sit out here with my husband with a glass of white wine, back when we were first dating. I couldn't believe a space like this actually existed in New York. It was like what every young New Yorker dreams of, especially this young New Yorker, who had been living in a dank little box in the East Village. (A dank little box whose view was not of the beautiful neighborhood garden next door, but instead of a brick wall.) The amazing thing about the roof garden is that it is very quiet. Almost shockingly quiet. Sometimes you can hear a party on the roof of a building a few blocks away, or faint echoes of a concert at the McCarren pool, but mostly you only hear the bird who has learned to imitate the sound of a cell phone ring. I have to remember to go out and have coffee out there, even when it's very hot, and be thankful that it is mine, at least for the next year. Because who knows where we'll end up next.
My mother-in-law's house in Maine has a beautiful patio that overlooks the ocean. Along the border of the patio is a garden that has some real gems in it, like the roses in the photo below. However, it needs some work, so I took some photos of the trouble spots to give it some thought.
Two hydrangea bushes, planted for my sister-in-law Jessie's wedding.
Problem: this plant blooms in autumn but looks like THIS all summer long.
This corner is doing well, I think, with lily of the valley and a large hosta.
