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John
Guglielmelli
San Francisco
I learned
about plants in two very different ways from my parents.
The strongest expression of this teaching grew in the
front yard when I was a kid. Mom and dad each planted
a tree when they purchased the house in 1961. Mom planted
an elegant Chinese elm we as kids called The Leaf Tree
(and climbed.) Dad, always practical, planted something
we could eat. Peaches. Mom was half Irish, half Cherokee
from Missouri with a soulful appreciation of nature.
Dad is the son of a first generation Italian farming
family who settled in Washington state. Mom saw garden.
Dad saw land. But each had a connection to the earth
and to growing things, and as usual the earth responded
to their love with bloom.
The small lot in Silicon Valley where I grew up held
a handful of other plants with a lot of roses Mom and
I planted together. Whether it was watching spiders
spin webs in the ivy or watching the ants devour dew
from a Jupiter's beard - each plant established itself
in my heart. I am taken back each time I see Redgold
bloom or Double Delight (Mom's favorite rose.) I cried
each winter when Mom would cut back the towering Peace
rosebush just outside her bedroom window. She would
smile and gather the branches together while promising
it was a good thing and that it would come back in spring
healthier and happier. A tangled blackberry bush growing
behind the house along the creek provided us with hot
juicy berries lightly sprinkled with dust to stain our
fingers, faces and teeth.
Even today I encourage the encroachment of blackberry.
Northern California geography is an ever-present inspiration
for natural landscapers like me. Colors and textures
flung from the Sierras are strewn along the length of
the region: rocky cliffs, undulating foothills, oaks,
redwoods, meadows, plains, seaside scrub, to name but
a few. Of course, the weather allows for almost any
type of gardening endeavor and as my mom used to say,
even the smallest amount of care goes a long way. If,
as my friend Ingrid says, the soul of the house is the
old tree out front, then the soul of the gardener is
found in the face of his or her garden.
More information:
Read more:
www.sfgardening.com
Photos on this page:
© 2004 John Guglielmelli
www.sfgardening.com
Used with permission.
Previous Showcase Gardens:
Sunshine
Farm & Gardens
Melissa
Clark, Chevy Chase
Send us your Story:
YourStory@AmericanGardenMuseum.com
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