I love beautiful gardens. Down to my core. Up until now, I have never, ever wanted to be a gardener. Ever. But I just got knocked out by the most amazing gardens in the French countryside and now, the flame is lit.
Dan is the big traveller in our family. Usually, I prefer to wave goodbye to him when he heads off on a new adventure. But this spring, I dusted off my passport and we went for a holiday in France with a few dear friends.
As a child of the U.S. Midwest, where everything is pretty understated and new, I never tire of seeing the historic and majestic sites of France. But this time, it was the flowers that set my heart aflame.
We travelled through Normandy and visited a part of France I have never been to before: the Loire Valley. Our guide, the delightful and infinitely patient Michel with Berlines & Voyages, introduced us to lovely country inns and gardens. We stayed in La Réserve, a bed and breakfast in Giverny. We’d never done a private tour before, but I think it’s what made this trip so magical for me. We all got to sit back and enjoy ourselves, as Michel brought France alive for us one story at a time.
My new favourite spot on earth is Les Jardins de Roquelin. It was in this old farm, turned into a showplace garden in the span of just 15 years, that I was converted into a wannabe gardener. Right now, I want to learn how to transform my own yard into a romantic getaway like this one. (Another home and garden that had me hyperventilating was Sharon Santoni’s, one of my favourite lifestyle bloggers. But that story is for another day.)
I know that this feeling may be the same one you have when you start a new diet or workout program. You’re all excited… for about a week. But right now I’m still in post-vacation euphoria and I can’t wait to pick up a trowel and get to work. Many of the ideas are actually obtainable and here are a few I’m excited to try.
Let the garden be wilder.
Something that always strikes me when we travel to the French countryside is that the gardens are wilder, looser, more forgiving. There don’t seem to be as many rules. I like that.
Vines are allowed to snake up the sides of buildings or around trees, bushy and unkempt. Bushes are allowed to grow together willy-nilly.
While we were in Giverny, we visited Monet’s home and garden. Dan took a shot of the famed water lilies. The whole spot just looks rustic and peaceful, not fussy and trimmed.
I also loved how aged and worn flower planters and garden statues were in the gardens we visited. Flowers were planted in old clay pots that were chipping and covered in moss. There was no effort to make these aged beauties look new. So often, if one of my iron garden urns starts to peel, I feel as if I have to sand it down and repaint. I’m going to stop that. I want to embrace the aged patina and the story it has to tell.
I’m a huge fan of layered decor. When lots of different pieces are brought together in a room to tell a story, it’s more interesting and charming. In the gardens in Normandy, I saw the same technique used in the gardens.
I was struck by how climbing roses in a variety of different colours were allowed to grow together, all mixed up. I have been focused on giving each of the plants in my garden their own space. Not anymore.
Dan got a shot looking through Monet’s garden, up toward the house. I was transfixed by this house and its blue-and white kitchen. But that’s another story. What struck me about this famed garden was that it was a wild riot of colour.
Experiment with the floors and ceilings in outdoor rooms.
I was amazed by how many French gardens incorporated a variety of materials into the pathways that wound through the flowerbeds. Gravel paths laced through Monet’s garden. Why not mine? My next step is bringing in some pea gravel.
— Tribune Media
