My Grandmother’s Garden
South Carolina is known for its beautifully romantic, manicured gardens. Charleston’s gardens are probably best known – Magnolia Gardens, Middleton Place, Drayton Hall – but Beaufort also has its share of gardens both magnificent and tender in their beauty. What could be more appealing than strolling down a back street on a warm spring afternoon and finding a wrought iron gate inviting you to peek inside? Frances Hodgson Burnett said it best: “And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles”.
But our Sea Island home has two faces. One is the picture of perfection, stateliness, prestige, and aristocracy – beautiful antebellum homes with their manicured gardens; the romance of the south. This face is the public face, the one people from all over come to gaze on. This is what she looks like when she’s dressed up and going out.
The sentimental idea of the romantic antebellum south, with its wealthy Sea Island planters, cotton fields, and ladies in hoop skirts has been illustrated in so many movies and books that this is the only historical reality many people know. When they picture the south they don’t see, and definitely aren’t as intrigued by farmers traveling dusty dirty roads on St. Helena Island and early morning shrimpers up before the sun to find a spot in the ocean that will yield a catch. But, as they say, beauty is only skin deep and if you look closely at our lovely Sea Island home, you’ll also see a countenance of simplicity and modesty, equally alluring in its grace and charm.
You’ll see the face of my grandmother’s garden.
My grandmother had what the French call “la pouce verte” – the green thumb, as it were, although what I remember about my grandmother’s hands is not a thumb that was green, but that there was frequently a little dirt under her fingernails. She was a great lover of plants and flowers and not only tended to her live green things but also perfected her skill as a florist whose work with silk flowers was highly sought after in Beaufort. All one had to do was show up at House and Garden gift shop on Lady's Island with a container of any sort and, on returning a few days later, would find that she had created a work of art.
But my grandmother’s garden was not a polished, manicured courtyard - the icon of the southern garden. It was a hodge-podge of azaleas, roses, camellias and gardenias planted wherever she might find a place where something might thrive. It was a place where you would most often find her having her way with a shovel and an errant shrub or taking this bush here and putting it there. She nurtured and tended but exercised tough love when she needed to, the results of which garnered her awards at Beaufort Garden Club Camellia and Rose Shows every year.
As a little girl I was mesmerized by her mimosa tree, which I called a powder puff tree for its soft pink, puffy blooms. She showed me how to touch the leaves just so then watch them curl together. “They’re very sensitive”, she said and I was struck by the idea that a tree could feel and respond to my touch. And my favorite was her clematis vine which she coaxed around her porch’s iron railings. The royal purple flowers were as big as salad plates and I love them to this day, although I remember her admonition to be careful with it as “it will climb all over the devil”.
Today, what is left of her work are azalea bushes which were transplanted from her home on Lady’s Island (where Grayco Hardware and Rite Aid now sit) to Yard Farm on St. Helena Island. They have stood the test of time and, in spite of not having her care on their behalf, still bloom in splendor every spring. I have a feeling they wouldn’t dare not to.
So when you’re done enjoying the sentimental, romantic view of the south which we all love, you might take a moment to look a little deeper. On closer inspection you’ll find that our Lowcountry home is filled with beautiful secrets, soft-spoken secrets that aren’t showy and glamorous, but are exquisite nonetheless.
Just like my grandmother’s garden.
Grandmama’s azaleas at Yard Farm