I’d love to say I immediately went to work on updating and upgrading Overleaf, but “life happened” and other events took precedence. My job kicked into a higher gear, I needed surgery for a ruptured disc, we finalized our move from NYC to Texas, and a myriad of familial responsibilities vied for my attention. Southerners often like to use the term “Benign Neglect.” It’s a condition where things are allowed to take a natural course, where little is done to repair or replace except the utmost necessary to maintain general safety. For me it conjures images of an Old New Orleans courtyard, a well worn flagstone pavement, the barely audible tinkle of a fountain partially obscured by lush undergrowth, a rusted wrought iron gate entwined with tendrils of some leafy flower filled vine, and brick or stone walls with a stylishly disintegrating stucco finish. A backdrop for a heady glass of bourbon on the rocks, or a chilled alcohol fortified tropical fruit punch… all things I ultimately envision in my garden. Things needed to be done both inside and out, but I also needed time for a plan and a budget. In two intervening years I had storm damaged trees removed, trimmed the overgrown and invasive Ligustrum Japonicum shrubs that had grown to almost twelve feet high, and stopped the professional lawn care service in favor of mowing, trimming and raking for myself. I rationalized it would save some money, and I could use the exercise. Admittedly I underestimated the prolific growth of Japanese Honeysuckle, Morning Glory, Virginia Creeper, and Japanese Honeysuckle vines, as well as some grape like and woody stemmed natives that I haven’t quite identified. As I mowed periodically the vines were infiltrating the yard, putting out roots and runners underneath the grass. Soon I had a tangled thicket that sprang up like gorgons, and threatened to take over everything. Something had to be done.
One late spring evening a much needed walk-through sparked some ideas. I found wild violets growing in profusion… the blossoms are edible. On the back fence I found a fairly unusual and edible native Guadeloupe Cucumber vine. There were two types of native edible wood sorrel, the yellow flowered variety and a more unusual orange flowered variety with purple leaves, both growing like weeds… because that’s what they are. In two places I found wild native dewberry vines. If you don’t know about dewberries, imagine a smaller slightly more tart blackberry growing on a viciously thorny vine that loves to grow in somewhat neglected areas like ditches, along barbed wire fences, forest clearings, and utility easements, and my backyard. After flowering in early spring, the berries start to ripen a few weeks later, darkening from pink to a deep almost black purple. The perfectly ripe ones present an explosion of sweetness, so tempting that once extracted from their thorny guardian vines, they rarely make it out of the possession of the picker. Children, and some adults on berry picking expeditions often eat more than they bring home. Of the surviving fruit, the majority have a slightly tart blackberry flavor which, in the right hands, yields a traditional southern pie or cobbler that is fit for royalty. The berry vines sparked memories of my grandmother, her master foraging, and her cobblers.
It started me thinking. I can take care of the vines, and have my own dewberry cobbler next spring. I can also use the leaves and flowers of the wild violets and sorrels in salads, and maybe throw a few Guadeloupe Cucumbers in for good measure. Since I had the beginnings of a foragers landscape, why not plant a true vegetable garden? It’s something that my ancestors did, and it would answer a longing I’ve had to return to the garden and woodlands of my childhood. I decided to perform a true survey so I could sketch out some ideas, then drew it up as a watercolor rendering (see above) in the spirit of many great landscape designers. —– and thus Overleaf Gardens began.