One of my fairy gardens is just outside our back door, mounted on the side of the house at eye level. It’s a daily reminder to stay in touch with my inner child, my muse, and lately, my sanity. Puttering in the tiny garden draws my attention away from reality for a few hours.
When we were young girls, my sister Sharon and I loved rearranging the furniture. It was a way to change our environment and to surprise our mother when she came home from work, and it didn’t cost us anything. We still laugh about it.
This week, I decided to rearrange the elevated fairy garden. I’ve had two small succulents planted there, but one has been struggling for a while.
They’re only a few inches apart, but one is getting too much sun. I transplanted it to a shady spot, considered buying another one, but in the spirit of rearranging the furniture, I opted for the assorted treasures I already had.
I moved the tiny garden bench to the spot vacated by the plant. Shade is essential during San Jose summers, so I crafted a wee sun umbrella. The umbrella’s structure is a lotus pod rescued from a floral arrangement sent to me as a thank you a few years ago. It’s been in the background of the fairy garden for a while. It’s now the base of the umbrella, with dried bracts from the bougainvillea held in place with sewing pins. I replaced the too-short stick with a twig from the fruit tree. Ah, shade.
A couple of small seed pods were the perfect size for tiny toss cushions, creating a relaxing resting spot for imaginary visitors with wings. Next to the garden bench, I’ve improvised a side table from a small bit of garden debris, topped with a green finding from my button jar. I wrapped the base of the table with a ring purchased in Victoria, Canada, a few years ago. I loved the look of the ring, but it is so uncomfortable that I never wore it. It works well in this miniature garden, and I can enjoy it in a different way.
Mike suggested a solar light for the garden and I happily agreed. I wrapped the light with sticky tape, then rolled it in dirt and gravel to help it blend in. It’s nestled in the remains of twigs that once covered hanging lights.
Next up, I added a garden arch that now separates the table and chairs from the lounge.
I braided three lengths of Nepeta, also known as catmint, while it was still soft, gently bending them into an arch and holding them in place with a length of florist wire. It’s drying nicely into a scented and wispy arch.
I invite you to close your eyes and imagine yourself in flight with gossamer wings and a light heart. The garden is ready for you. All are welcome.
Gardening Nirvana 