01The starting point

A vision gathered around the world · still growing
The trees were love at first sight. The long-limbed Live Oaks captivated us, holding the promise of a garden worth pausing for. The vision emerged over months, but its seeds were planted by a lifetime of visiting gardens. Then AI joined the team. And here we are: a special garden in the making.
The winding drive · August 2026
Oaklane is unique in many ways. The house seems to have been built as a viewing platform from which to enjoy the birdlife, the marshes and the majestic trees. At times, it feels as if we’re living in a tree house. The house has a total of forty-two beautifully framed windows, reminding us of the Adachi Museum in Japan, where every window frames a living garden painting. Oaklane’s garden is being shaped in the same spirit: as a living artwork that can be viewed from inside. Each window must have something worth pausing for. That became my guiding principle.
Those framed window pictures translated into a garden that pulled in elements from the most beautiful gardens in the world. Visiting them was like collecting gemstones that could now be curated into a piece of custom-designed jewellery.
This is our gem-filled oasis.
The design and ideas were mine. Aiden joined when practicalities set in: pests, placements and plant names. I imagine her walking next to me in her Wellington boots, notebook in hand, helping to give shape to the “feeling” I wanted to create. I taught her about design and the big picture, and she taught me about understanding what the garden was saying.

This is where it started.
Me: “Aiden, how’s your horticultural knowledge?”
Aiden: “I’m ready and eager to dig in! My horticultural knowledge covers everything from soil health, companion planting, and pruning techniques to seasonal planting calendars, pest management, and permaculture basics. Whether you’re cultivating a veggie patch, caring for ornamentals, or planning a drought-tolerant garden, I can help.
What’s growing on your mind?”
Hydrangea drifts near Hiroshima had inspired what I imagined for the Haven. I placed the Penny Macs beneath the live oaks, watched the light move across them and realised that the sun was too strong. That practical question gave Aiden a new role. The conversations soon grew from individual plants into the experience of an entire garden.
Original garden plan · choose a garden to visitI drew the original garden plan around the house, the curve of the drive and, above all, the trees already here. It brought twenty years of travel, observation and remembered feeling together in one hand-drawn intention.
As the garden grew, I adjusted the plan in response to sunlight, roots, drought, wildlife and construction. The original drawing remains beneath the site as a record of where the vision began.
Choose a garden name on the plan to continue directly to that part of the story.
See the plan meet the ground ↓The timeline gives the whole-garden arc. Inside every garden room, the dated photographs continue it from the first available view to the latest.
01The starting point
02The first work begins
03The Garden Shed arrives
04Excavation begins
05The garden rooms take shape
06Preparing for planting
07The walkway lights are installed
08The arches are erected
09The driveway lights are installed
10The first dahlia blooms
11The first tree trimming in many years
12The first bulk arrival
13The new plants arrive
14The first crops are harvested
15The planting begins to settle
16The Waterfall Garden is planted
17Preparing for the fresh lawn
18The sod arrives
19The lawn is installed
20The moss arrives
21The new lawn connects the garden
22The Front Door planters arrive
Earlier Follow the line of change Now—and still changing
Set within a garden just shy of an acre, fourteen garden rooms follow the physical journey from the street. The large photograph is the current view, not a finished “after.” It will be replaced when the room reaches a meaningful new stage, while every earlier view remains in its dated timeline.
01 / 14 · current viewGarden room 01
Working with the trees already here
The Front Oak Garden started with a conversation with an arborist. I asked what we should do to protect the live oaks, and he suggested removing the grass that grew right up to their trunks. Clearing this area became the second garden project I tackled and my first real act as a custodian of the trees.
It took me a long time to decide what to plant here. In the end, I chose colour for a practical reason: I want visitors to notice the planting, then look up at the magnificent tree and wonder what lies beyond. The curb garden, Front Oak and Ribbon Garden now work together as the introduction to Oaklane.
Woodpeckers, owls and squirrels use the oaks as a vertical garden far above our own.
“I’ve spent many more hours to clear up under our biggest oak tree. Still mulling over the next steps: to mulch or not to mulch. To underplant or not… No rush on this.”
Letter from Oaklane · 25 Aug 2024
“The Peacock Ginger plants are in the ground below the big oak tree… Gardening, like drapes, is a slow process that needs time to develop, I’m learning.”
Letter from Oaklane · 24 Nov 2024
02 / 14 · current viewGarden room 02
One hundred feet of garden along the drive
The Ribbon Garden runs for about one hundred feet beside the driveway. Its job is to define the curve and connect the introduction at the street with the more private garden rooms further in.
Because the bed is so long, it needed discipline. Too many different plants would make it look busy. Repeating the same liriope and viburnum creates a clear rhythm that can be read from the road, while walking and from a moving car.
A continuous planted edge becomes a small travel route for insects and ground-feeding birds.
“The new driveway bed has been completed… This is where the driveway lights will go as well as fresh plantings to give more definition to the winding driveway.”
Letter from Oaklane · 5 Jan 2025
“We’ve tackled the 100-foot-long bed that runs alongside the driveway… That’s now ready for planting.”
Letter from Oaklane · 9 Jun 2026
03 / 14 · current viewGarden room 03
Colour with an ecological purpose
The Butterfly Garden came into being because of its location: I realised that this was one of the few areas with enough sun for a proper pollinator garden. Plus, with the addition of a few viburnums it could create more privacy.
It now has two jobs: it creates a living backdrop for the Haven and a home for butterflies, hummingbirds and bees. The purple Mystic Spires remind me of the large lavender beds I planted in France. Yellow flowers add contrast and make the whole bed more vivid from afar.
The Butterfly Garden is a hive of activity, with bees and butterflies congregating around the Mystic Spires and rudbeckias. This part of the garden seems to be perpetually in motion with all the insect life.
“We now have what is locally known as a pollinator garden. It’s a Mecca for butterflies and bees and is a delight to watch as they work their way through the flowers.”
Letter from Oaklane · 29 Jun 2025
04 / 14 · current viewGarden room 04
From a hydrangea idea to a raised sanctuary
The row of live oaks looked like a clearing in the woods and immediately invited me to sit there. The problem was that it was in the front garden and felt completely exposed. I wanted to create the sense of walking along a woodland path and unexpectedly finding a private clearing where one could sit without feeling on display.
The curved walls create that privacy and make the space feel as if it is holding you in its arms. There is a bench for resting, thinking or having a deep conversation, and a birdbath to bring visitors of another kind. It is a place to stop and smell the roses, or rather the Mystic Spires, not simply to pause on the way down the driveway.
Dense layered planting gives insects and small birds cover, nectar and a cooler place to pause.
“Together we researched the sun-tolerant hydrangea varieties, found the perfect ones, and she even drew me a picture of how to do the layout. It’s great having my green-fingered AI assistant by my side now!”
Letter from Oaklane · 25 May 2025
“It was planned as ‘Hydrangea Haven’ but given the weather here, it’s just ‘The Haven’ now.”
Letter from Oaklane · 1 Feb 2026
“The ‘haven’ also got some TLC, with the first plantings going in and the stepping stones being sunk into the soil.”
Letter from Oaklane · 9 Jun 2026
05 / 14 · current viewGarden room 05
A difficult slope reorganized by water
The Waterfall Garden started when I looked at the Split Oak and imagined it as a picnic spot next to a stream: somewhere to rest and recover. There was only one problem. We did not have a stream. So I designed a journey in which the sound of water would draw you in and reward you with something unexpected.
The boardwalk came from the feeling of walking through beautiful hotel gardens in Thailand. The planting surrounded you while the raised path gave you a clear and comfortable way through it. Here, raising the path also protects the tree roots. Its curves slow the visitor down and create time to notice the water, the flowers and the planting below.
The cardinals love the stream, using its shallow pools as an extended birdbath. The moving water has made this a regular stopping place rather than somewhere they simply pass through.
06 / 14 · current viewGarden room 06
A garden shaped around survival
The Split Oak dictated this garden. Its great divided trunk made me imagine a picnic place beside a stream, where one could rest under the trees. It became the destination that gave the Waterfall Garden a reason to exist.
I never wanted to disguise the tree or make the planting compete with it. The pond, open ground and softer plants allow the oak to remain the main event. As the path turns toward the front door, it creates a natural place to stop and take in the tree, the water and the flowers before moving on.
Three large barn owls have made themselves at home here, using the pond as their personal bathing spot. The pond has also attracted lots and lots of frogs, with the useful benefit of keeping the snail and slug population in check. The hostas are glad of that.
“Still mulling over the next steps: to mulch or not to mulch. To underplant or not… No rush on this.”
Letter from Oaklane · 25 Aug 2024

Structure is something to contemplate. It’s tedious and time-consuming to add walls and paths and arches and trellises, but without it this garden would look rambling and neglected. Interesting how structure gives shape, and freedom.
07 / 14 · current viewGarden room 07
An arrival remade beneath the canopy
The Welcome Way is where the garden turns to face the front door. I wanted the almost tropical feeling of the Waterfall and Split Oak gardens to give way to bright greens that make the soft-yellow house feel even more welcoming. Removing the tall pittosporum also revealed the beautiful latticework that had been hidden for years.
The Welcome Way is the transition point where garden meets house. This is where one steps out of nature into architecture. The challenge here is not to overwhelm the house with planting, but also not to leave it too sparse. This part of the design remains fluid and will be completed last.
The canopy and water make this a threshold for birds, squirrels, frogs and the small lives moving between woodland and house.
“It might not look like an improvement to the onlooker, but it’s the start of the ‘Welcome Way’ garden project, so we’re happy.”
Letter from Oaklane · 17 Nov 2024
“We’re bringing water into the front garden with a water feature that will welcome visitors on their way to the front door.”
Letter from Oaklane · 2 Dec 2025
08 / 14 · current viewGarden room 08
An enclosed garden close to the house
The Courtyard Garden came from a flood-code requirement. The air-conditioning units had to be moved onto a raised platform, directly outside one of the windows. It was necessary, but it was certainly not a view I wanted to keep.
Rather than pretending the platform was not there, I used it as one side of a courtyard. We built a matching trellis opposite it and added two raised beds. The symmetry turns the end of the driveway into a destination, hides the machinery and creates a more intimate entrance to the Paradise Garden.
Night-flying moths and tree frogs change the atmosphere after dark.
“The ‘courtyard’ is coming along nicely with two raised beds that also need another two layers. Soon we’ll have something better than just a parking lot to look at.”
Letter from Oaklane · 2 Mar 2026
“The courtyard raised beds are complete and now sport their twin trellises.”
Letter from Oaklane · 27 Apr 2026
09 / 14 · current viewGarden room 09
A destination beyond jasmine arches
The Paradise Garden is built around fragrance. White jasmine, white gardenias and white-and-yellow lemon blossom set the palette, with purple passionflower adding contrast. I want it to feel generous and enveloping as one walks through the arches.
A Monty Don programme helped me recognise something I had created without knowing its name. Persian paradise gardens used sunken paths that brought visitors close to the tops of orange trees and jasmine. Our kitchen sits at roughly that height, while at ground level the same plants surround you with fragrance. The historical reference gave language to an idea that was already in the design.
Jasmine fragrance belongs to humans and night pollinators alike.
“We should have the ‘herb garden’ and ‘the arches’ ready in about three weeks… everything takes three times as long to complete as what I have in my head!”
Letter from Oaklane · 2 Mar 2026
“The arches are up, held up by sturdy concrete feet, ready for the Jasmine to be planted. The lemon trees have been planted in their giant pots.”
Letter from Oaklane · 27 Apr 2026
10 / 14 · current viewGarden room 10
A shaded place to pause and take in the view
A row of five Sweet Gum trees creates a natural woodland setting between the Paradise and Jewel gardens. The bench makes this a destination: a shaded place to pause and take in the view across the marshes, rather than simply a space one walks through to reach the next garden.
I want visitors to discover drifts of plants here: snowdrops in spring, caladiums in summer and other surprises as the seasons change. The garden is also visible from the house, so the planting must work from above and through the windows. The shade sets the rules, while the bench gives us a reason to stop and enjoy it.
The Woodland Garden has a resident woodpecker who has been on the job for weeks, pecking away at deadwood high above the ground to build a shelter. He is clearly hard at work, judging by the sawdust and wood chips we find below.
“The garden is doing her thing, regardless, and it’s delightful to see all the little snowdrops.”
Letter from Oaklane · 23 Feb 2025
“Our ‘woodland garden’ is a delight with all the snowdrops in full bloom. I’m sure this is where the fairies go and play.”
Letter from Oaklane · 2 Mar 2025

Only one season in, and the garden has already shown where the original ideas needed adjustment.
11 / 14 · current viewGarden room 11
Where garden, marsh and Gardening HQ meet
The Jewel Garden is the one place where I give colour free rein. Much of Oaklane moves through purples, pinks and softer greens. Here, I will use whatever strong colour is available: azaleas, zinnias, cannas, rudbeckias and river sunflowers.
Monty Don gave me the name. His Jewel Garden is built around rich, saturated colour, and that is exactly the job of this large bed. It must be strong enough to draw the eye from inside the house and, perhaps, from the other side of the marsh. It is the last bright piece of civilisation before the garden gives way to the nature preserve.
The Jewel Garden is equally popular with butterflies, who love the sunshine and flowers. They seem to enjoy it even more when compost has been spread on the ground. Perhaps it is the minerals in the fertile mix that attract them.
“Pelicans, egrets, geese, herons all come for a rest and a snack—there’s always something happening out there.”
Letter from Oaklane · 19 Oct 2025
Gardening HQ · 27 April 2026The Garden Shed fulfils a lifelong dream: a working space so attractive and adorable that it enhances the landscape rather than needing to be hidden. Almost a fairy-tale doll’s house, it is part of the experience of Oaklane.
Inside, every tool has a purpose and a proper place. It’s a carefully ordered engine room from which the work of the garden radiates.
The Garden Shed garden was host to a crowd of beautiful, plump green caterpillars who stripped the pentas almost bare within twenty-four hours. They were gently removed and relocated to the marshland, where I hope they will complete their transformation into butterflies.
“This is the cutest little garden shed ever.”
Every visitor, almost without exception
12 / 14 · current viewGarden room 12
A useful garden room, shared with squirrels
The Edible Garden grew from five years spent growing vegetables in a community garden. That experience gave me a much deeper respect for farmers and for the soil as a provider. I wanted to recreate that connection at home, but in a way that looked as if it was part of the garden rather than a separate vegetable plot.
The bed sits directly in front of the deck, which is our outdoor viewing platform for the marshes. I therefore mixed flowers and vegetables together: dahlias, zinnias and coreopsis among tomatoes, peppers, kale and aubergines. It is beautiful, productive and wonderfully grounding to carry something from a tiny seed to the dinner table.
Our one and only hummingbird sighting was a brief, fluttery visit to a dahlia. A rare visit from a hummingbird is such a thrill. I am now thinking of ways to encourage them to stop here on their migration journey south. Acorn burial in the vegetable beds, meanwhile, remains under negotiation.
“The edible garden raised bed has been built and looks quite handsome. Now for digging out the grass and replacing it with good organic soil.”
Letter from Oaklane · 2 Mar 2026
“The edible garden is coming along nicely, producing plenty of greens for us to feast on. It’s just been a battle between the squirrels and me.”
Letter from Oaklane · 9 Jun 2026
13 / 14 · current viewGarden room 13
A green corridor made from repetition
The Shady Alley solves another privacy problem. A second line of viburnum will eventually create an alley between the new hedge and the existing holly.
It is a cool, shaded walk with small dots of colour from the porch baskets. After some of the garden’s more intensely planted areas, I wanted this section to let the eye rest. It is a useful transition and, rather like a palate cleanser, gives one a moment to catch one’s breath.
A squirrel adopted one of the hanging baskets as her nest and raised a baby there. Watering the basket became a delicate operation: the baby would scream blue murder every time it got wet.
“I actually saw it growing in front of the light shop and asked my AI assistant what it was. So we went to the nursery yesterday and found it… That feels like a step forward!”
Letter from Oaklane · 15 Sep 2024
14 / 14 · current viewGarden room 14
A new garden room for close looking
The Moss Garden is a solution to a practical problem. This part of the property is always in shade and badly eroded because the neighbouring plot sits higher than ours. It was also the bare, rather depressing view from the bedroom window. I kept asking myself what on earth one could do with it.
About ten years ago, I saved a magazine showing a Korean designer’s pathway made from pavers and moss. My love of moss also comes from Japan, where it gives gardens a sense of age and permanence. The pattern will give the view structure, while the moss will soften it. Why keep looking at an unpleasant patch of ground when we can create something that makes us smile every day?
Frogs, insects and the organisms within damp soil make this one of the garden’s smallest and busiest habitats.
Not a designed garden room, but Oaklane’s widest and most changeable landscape: a nature preserve, an extension of the garden and a borrowed view shaped by water, drought, mist and migration.
Sunrise over the marsh · September 2025The house was built as a viewing platform for this landscape. Across the seasons, the marsh has been lake, grassland, feeding ground and theatre: pelicans, egrets, geese and herons arriving and departing beyond the garden.
During the long drought it became part of the work as well as the view. Cutting back dead grass and waiting for rain made the boundary between tended garden and wild landscape feel wonderfully uncertain.
“Pelicans, egrets, geese, herons all come for a rest and a snack—there’s always something happening out there.”
Letter from Oaklane · 19 Oct 2025
“I guess we’ve now adopted the marshlands as our extended garden as well! The birds seem to be very happy with the summer look.”
Letter from Oaklane · 27 Apr 2026
Early view → Current view
A marsh bird at the water’s edge
Mist and sunrise beyond the terrace
Migrating birds gather in the marsh
The dry winter landscape
Colour returns to the horizon
A vivid sunset stretches across the marsh and garden path
Early morning mist settles over the marsh beyond the garden
Like Monet, who wrote to his friends about his garden, I like the idea of writing to friends about this garden as it unfolds. The letters preserve the weather, the work, the uncertainty and the small discoveries before hindsight has had a chance to tidy the story.
The newest letter appears here in full. Earlier letters that I have chosen to share are gathered in the dated archive below, while the shorter passages beside individual garden rooms remain as small windows into the same letters.
Tell me when the next installment is up ↗Letter from Oaklane · 14 September 2026
It’s been a while. I kept postponing writing because I “just wanted to finish the next thing”, and then the next thing. This week we hit three milestones, so I thought it a good time to pause and share an update.
The last time I wrote, the “personal nursery” had just arrived. Two months later, I’m happy to report that all of the plants, plus some, have now been planted. Milestone achieved! It was a bit of a sprint. I think I’ve perfected the art of digging holes of all sizes. It’s such a relief to have everything in its new home.
I must admit that it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies during these past eight weeks, and I had to have a talk with myself more than once. As doubts and resentment started to creep in—what was I thinking? What did we embark on here?—I had to reset. Watching BBC gardening programmes, I saw how people around the world would rescue small vacant plots and turn them into little havens of tranquillity. It made me realise how lucky we are to have the space for this garden and the ability to create it. Grumbling stopped and real gratitude set in. There’s nothing like early mornings in the garden, with flocks of egrets and blue herons pecking around for breakfast within a stone’s throw. Truly magical.
As the plants went in, we had vague ideas of sprinkling some grass seed to repair the lawns, but in the end treated ourselves to a fresh lawn using sod. Under the tutelage of our Saturday garden guy—who has done a lot of lawns—we got a sod cutter, prepared the area and put down a total of seven pallets of sod squares of a brand-new variety of grass called St. Augustine Cobalt, specially cultivated for shade. The pallets looked like big teddy bears with the broad-bladed grass stacked on them. Over two Saturdays we got it in, and I can now be an apprentice lawn installer. I know all about lines, angles, cutting and filling in. It’s been four weeks now, and it’s great to see our fluffy lawn taking shape. Although I’ve much reduced the area under lawn, one does need a bit of green to offset everything else, it seems.
I’d venture to say that one year later—yes, celebrating one year of living here on the 18th—we have finally moved in. What a journey it’s been. The garden installation is 90% complete, and we can start contemplating taking Sundays off.
It’s only once one stands back that one can appreciate how far one has come. I wanted to create a “scrapbook” of the story of the garden, but, this being the year 2026, I used my gardening partner, AI assistant Aiden, to instead create a webpage about the garden. This site is as much a journal for me—a way to really see the progress—as it is a record of how the garden matures over time. I hope you enjoy the garden tour! Best viewed on a laptop.
Earlier letters
With some early-morning garden work added to the schedule, the ‘installation’ is still continuing, but I can now say in all honesty: we’ve turned professional!
My AI assistant, Aiden, and I spent weeks mulling over suitable plants for each of the garden ‘rooms’, resulting in the creation of a Master Plant List. I then went searching and finally struck a deal with a wholesale nursery in South Florida to supply and deliver the plants. To my delight, our private nursery—or so it seemed—arrived at 6 a.m. last Thursday. It is lovely to have everything on site now, but it is also a bit overwhelming as my To Do list stares at me every time I look out of the window!
The process of finding wholesalers also led us to a beautiful nursery just outside town, in an area we had never visited. It was a very nice discovery, and I now have my plant people on speed dial. Hence, I think we’ve turned professional!
We also finally got the driveway lights installed. That has been on my wish list since day one, and it’s a great relief to have some light on the otherwise pitch-black driveway. There are no streetlights. The trees also got a haircut to lighten the load on their long limbs. It was an education to watch the tree trimmers climb the enormous trees and get the cut branches down safely. I reckon that must be a fun job—climbing trees and playing with chainsaws!
Other than that, we’ve had hot and hotter weather, but we’ve been blessed with a rain shower almost every afternoon this week. That helps a lot to cool things down.
We seem to have settled into a nice routine of gracious living. Can’t ask for more.
It’s June and it’s safe to say that summer has arrived in all its glory, with high humidity and temperatures. Since we last spoke, we’ve thankfully received a few rain showers, with a few more to come this weekend, which means we might be heading out of the drought. Everything is lush and green, with the air filled with the heady fragrance of gardenias. Summer in the South is all it was advertised to be.
At Oaklane, things have been progressing in the garden. We’ve completed ‘the mountain’ that leads up to the waterfall, with three beautiful terraces awaiting planting. We’ve also tackled the hundred-foot-long bed that runs alongside the driveway, first filling it with pea gravel to provide a buffer in case a driver can’t quite make it down the long winding driveway without falling off, and then the second section, which is the actual bed. That’s now ready for planting.
The Haven also got some TLC, with the first plantings going in and the stepping stones being sunk into the soil. Elsewhere in the garden, some colour has been sprinkled, just to liven up the green landscape.
The Edible Garden is coming along nicely, producing plenty of greens for us to feast on. It’s just been a battle between the squirrels and me, who think the entire bed is meant for burying acorns.
With this being summer, I’ve taken some time off work to be the head gardener and simply enjoy being here, with no deadline to be anywhere or finish anything. It’s been very nice.
We also didn’t waste time outside. A big goal was to be done with the construction work, which we’ve happily achieved. The Haven has been given extra layers, filled with good soil and prepared for planting. The walkway has been sanded to obtain a satisfying curve and the pillars with lights have been added. The leak in the waterfall pond has been fixed—we hope. That is another saga, which I won’t elaborate on.
The Courtyard raised beds are complete and now sport their twin trellises. The arches are up, held by sturdy concrete feet and ready for the jasmine to be planted. The lemon trees have been planted in their giant pots, the bed extended and the herb garden completed. The Edible Garden has now sprouted its first edibles, together with my beloved zinnias and Teddy Bear sunflowers. Oh yes, and the Garden Shed now looks more like a doll’s house than ever before with the addition of a ramp.
So yes, we’ve been busy! But it’s been fun to see it come together.
With the extreme drought that we’re in, our marshland has completely dried up, leaving only masses of dead grass, which looked more like the Serengeti than green Florida. We rented a brush cutter, got help and spent three weekends cutting down the dead grass across about two-thirds of the marsh. Lovely green sprigs are now starting to show, but more importantly, we’re ready for the rains to fill the area. There is high hope that by mid-May La Niña will swap to El Niño, which will send rain our way. But be that as it may, I guess we’ve now adopted the marshlands as our extended garden as well! The birds seem to be very happy with the summer look, so all is well.
Still in the garden, we’ve now embarked on building ‘the mountain’: a few terraces that lead to the waterfall, and on putting down stepping stones for a number of walkways. It seems as if every addition to the garden is bringing more depth, which is satisfying to see.
That’s enough for this update, I’m sure!
It seems as if we blinked and there was the month of March. So soon.
Outside in the garden, we’ve got a lot going on. The ‘arms’ of the Haven reached the planned three layers, but they seemed too low, so we’ll be adding another layer, or perhaps two, in the next few weeks. The Edible Garden raised bed has been built and looks quite handsome. Now for digging out the grass and soil and replacing it with good organic soil. On the other side, the Courtyard is coming along nicely, with two raised beds that also need another two layers. Soon we’ll have something better than just a parking lot to look at.
The big moment came when we could cut the boardwalk into its final shape. It was a bit nerve-racking to watch because once it’s cut, it’s cut. But it came out well, with just a bit of final adjustment and sanding needed.
Finally, we’ve been spending a few weekends turning the erstwhile garbage-can area below the kitchen window into something more interesting to look at. That includes preparing for the planting of two lemon trees. I’m really excited about that. I’ve always wanted a lemon tree but have never managed to get one. We should have the herb garden and the arches ready in about three weeks, ready for reporting on next time. One thing I’m starting to learn is that everything takes three times as long to complete as what I have in my head!
That’s it from the sunny and warmer South.
It’s been a while, but with the start of a new month, it’s time for an update.
We took quite a while to get back on our feet after picking up bad colds during our winter retreat, but we’re back to full strength again and the garden projects are back on track. We still have to finish the final cutting of the boardwalk to get the curves just so, and the waterfall is still not quite as it should be, but we’ll get there.
In the meantime, we got started on the third phase. It was planned as ‘Hydrangea Haven’ but, given the weather here, it’s just ‘The Haven’ now, pending decisions on what will go into the raised beds. It is rather bleak here in winter, so I’m leaning towards winter-blooming camellias for a bit of colour. The building blocks have been delivered, the soil is being levelled and one of these days we’ll have our curvy raised beds ready.
Thankfully, the three-month-long drought we’ve been experiencing—the worst in 134 years, apparently—has been broken somewhat by welcome soft rain. Our beautiful marsh has completely dried up, and with it most of the birds, who prefer to go to nearby lakes that still have some water. This is all due to La Niña, according to the news. Hopefully we can get through to February, when it’s supposed to lift.
We decided that 31 December 2025 is the cut-off date for major projects, which meant we got started on the garden projects as well. We’re bringing water into the front garden with a water feature that will welcome visitors on their way to the front door. Well, they also need a walkway to get there, so that’s going in too. The long-awaited smart irrigation system is going in this week. A few more beds are being created in the process, which all in all means the poor garden looks like a construction site at the moment. But this is the time of year to do it, so that we can be ready for the spring growth.
Part of the clean-up was an impromptu and opportunistic decision to move the azaleas into a single bed. They were dotted here, there and everywhere in the garden. We dug up fifteen very large azaleas from less-than-ideal conditions and moved them into full sun with improved soil, where they can thrive. It’s been three weeks now and I’m still holding my breath to see if they all survive the move. So far, so good.
That single clean-up has made the world of difference to how the front garden looks. We also removed some larger shrubs next to the front porch that were struggling in the shade. It now feels much calmer, while at the same time being more interesting because the eye isn’t distracted by the odd out-of-place shrub. The back garden is also transformed, with the azalea arbour enclosing the area into a more private space. If it works out, it will be quite a display in spring.
With December here, pumpkins have given way to Christmas decorations and our neighbourhood is once again going to town with those. From very elegant gold-themed balls and fairy lights to entire landscapes with Santa, elves, reindeer and even the Peanuts characters, my morning walks have definitely been elevated since Halloween. We’ll wait until next year for our own decorations at Oaklane. Right now, I’d prefer it to be plunged into darkness to hide the construction site!
Well, we made it through the Halloween season and hopefully we’ll start seeing more genteel decorations in the front gardens. Viewing skeleton after skeleton on my morning walk rather takes the joy out of the day!
Autumn is quite lovely here. We don’t have the deep colours of Michigan, but the leaves are slowly turning—and falling—and the days are beautiful. It is very dry, though, so we’re still hoping that La Niña will move over and give us a bit of rain.
Well, we’ve been in the house for a full month now, and we’ve come to the conclusion that this house was built to take in the views of the marshlands and their ever-changing scenery. With this being October, we’re now seeing migrating flocks stop by for a day or two before heading further south. Pelicans, egrets, geese and herons all come for a rest and a snack. It’s quite something to see. There’s always something happening out there.
That is probably why we have forty-two windows, each set in a frame, as in a picture frame. It reminds us of a museum we visited in Japan, where the immaculate Japanese gardens were part of the art display through the clever placement of picture windows. We now refer to our lounge as the Adachi Museum!
Weather-wise, we’ve been in the grip of La Niña’s drought, with not a drop of rain for three weeks—up to today, when we received a welcome soft drizzle. Hopefully the clouds will stick around because it’s alarming to see everything so droopy, despite daily watering. Even though the temperatures are still warm, the mornings are chilly and the trees are starting to say it’s autumn. It is nice to have seasonal changes to remind one of time passing.
The garden is showing the change in season, with the first camellia blooms starting to make their appearance. I’ve cut back some plants, added a few fresh ones and brought in a bulk load of lovely, fluffy compost to feed the soil and shut down the garden for the season. Although, this is a mindset I’ll have to change. Up north, gardening ends in October. Here, October seems to start a whole new season of winter planting. I’ll have to get my head around year-round gardening!
Greetings from inside Oaklane! It’s been a week and a bit, and it’s gone very well.
The best part, unexpectedly, is that we have a front-row seat to the sun rising every morning. It is a spectacular view from the terrace and my new morning routine: watching the sun rise over the marshland with all its morning activity. It feels as if one is on holiday in some remote location! We consider ourselves lucky.
Some garden projects await, but for now we’re just happy to enjoy the pause after a very long renovation journey. Yes, I think we can say the story ended with ‘and they lived happily ever after’!
Thanks for being on this journey with us. Now, for the journey of developing the garden…

Monty Don · Monty Don’s Adriatic Gardens