I refer to the exterior landscaped portion of Overleaf in the plural, “gardens.” Even though it’s a small suburban property at just over a tenth of an acre, in theory and in practice it’s divided into several different gardening areas and methods. I’ll explain more about them in later posts. The hardscape (built portion) like the house, shows its fifty year age. The exposed pebble sidewalks and driveway are tree root lifted, and beginning to disintegrate. The forty year old irrigation system, which was spotty at best, recently failed entirely when a major leak necessitated it being shut off completely at the main supply. The once well landscaped yard long ago matured beyond the serviceable life of the plantings, shrubs and trees, most of which died through natural attrition. Native and invasive vines and plants have dominated in many places, and several years of drought, one or two rare but destructive ice storms, some unforgiving severe thunderstorms, tropical storms, and hurricanes have not been kind through the years. Flooding and heavy rains stripped much of the yard of its topsoil, leaving a hard packed sand, clay, and gravel base that supports little more than weeds. I had two large trees removed due to storm damage, but despite that, there are still a number of mature trees in the yard that drop a preponderance of leaves which cover the roof, the sidewalks, the driveway and the yard each fall. So many leaves it sometimes looks like the house might be buried. Because I think every good southern home should have a name, I titled it “Overleaf.” Named mostly for the leaves, but also for the sense of hope I have for the house, the yard, the neighborhood, and even the town. I named it for what’s on the other side of the page, for what comes next, for the next chapter in the life of the house, and my life… I named it for the stories I’m about to write.
The back “lawn”- Lush looking, but more weeds and vines than grass.
Weeds, tree roots, and gravel, on an eroded hard-pan sand and clay base.
