December 5, 2016 – The Zen Garden 

          Between the time we bought the property and when the house was ready to move into, I did lots of dreaming of my gardens.  I had a sketch pad where I pasted cut-out pictures of my “wish list” trees and shrubs.  I had sketches of planned patio gardens, and driveway gardens and the front walk gardens.

          But the most unusual garden I had planned was the Zen garden. 

          At one time it was the focal point of the back yard.  You can view it from every window on the back side of the house. It has changed somewhat over the years, but it is still lovely.

          It is simplistic.   At the northwestern corner of the property I planted a sugar maple tree with a red camellia bush offset to the right a bit.  Then I cajoled my husband into buying a cement Japanese lantern.  We placed that in front of the maple tree. 

Next, I took the leftover bricks from our foundation and created a rectangle on the flat ground in the forefront of the lantern.   It was about 18 feet long and 8 foot wide.  I killed off the grass and leveled it more.  I pinned down a double layer of landscaping fabric.  We then borrowed a pickup truck and got a truck load of fine grey sand from the crushed stone place.

I remember it was a hot summer day and the truck had to be returned to the owner that night.  I took the sand off, shovelful, by shovelful and tossed it evenly in the rectangle.  I wouldn’t allow my husband to help.  I got a good start on my summer tan that year along with very stiff muscles the next day.

I smoothed the grey sand with the back of a rake and then played making lines in it.  It thrilled me and it wasn’t even done yet.

We had saved a sizeable flatish rock that was pulled out of the back yard when the landscaping men smoothed the area for our lawn. I set that rock in the Zen Garden, but, I needed two more rocks to complete it.

I was looking everywhere along the sides of the roads for the next few weeks. Surprisingly there was a beautiful rock just across the road from the entrance of our subdivision.

After work one evening I sweet talked my husband into helping me get the rock I had espied.  He carried the shovel and I pushed our new wheel barrow down the road past several neighbor’s homes.  We live off a very busy road which has no shoulder.   Basically the shoulder is a drop off into a 4 foot ditch.  The rock I wanted was about 6 feet up the side of the ditch. 

With evening traffic whizzing dangerously by, we manuvered the wheel barrow as close to the prized rock as we could and started to pry the rock loose.  It was muddy and wet from a recent rain.  We pried it loose, but my husband had to eventually lift it over the edge of the wheel barrow while I held the handles to compensate for the weight.  KLUNK it went in hard and left a dent in the bottom. Then, when the traffic cleared it took the two of us all our strength to pull the wheel barrow out of the ditch and get it across the road.

Once across the road my husband declared, “It’s your project now, I’ve done the hard part.”  He added the muddy shovel to the wheel barrow.  I could hardly lift the wheel barrow.  The grade at the end of the road is steep.  I couldn’t get it to move so he got it up the grade – about 20 feet for me.

He stopped and said,“It’s your rock.  You haul it home.” 

He’d already commented about my “hair brained idea”. It was heavy. I could barely lift it, but I did manage to get the handles lifted up just enough so that it was balanced on the front wheel and leaning my full weight into it I got it to slowly roll.  Our house is about 20 car lengths from this point.

I had to stop and rest every 10 to 15 feet or so. When the road leveled off and started to pitch down, it went smoother.  It was at this point that my mischevious husband suddenly wiped the red clay mud from his hands onto the ass of my garden pants.  I dropped the wheel barrow and the sudden unplanned drop almost tipped it over. We both caught it to keep it upright.  We laughed.  What the heck would we have done if it had fallen out into the middle of the road?

I continued pushing “my project” and struggled to get it to the edge of the lawn.  Knowning the lawn was soft from a recent rain, my husband helped me push the wheel barrow the next six car lengths toward its final destination.

The weight of the rock left a wheel track in the lawn.  My husband wasn’t too pleased with that either.  When we got it to the Zen Garden he said he wasn’t picking it up again – it would have to be rolled out of the wheel barrow.  We dickered about that idea for several minutes.  Eventually I won the debate.  We would dump it over the edge of the Zen Garden and then give it one or two rolls to where it was to reside.

          It only needed one roll and the prettiest side came up where it should. Of course, “prettiest side of a rock” is in the eyes of the beholder – me.

          Two rocks out of three were now set.  I put out the request for a Zen Rake to my Dad for my birthday which was only a month or so away. [Dad custom made one and sent it.]

          I then constructed a contemplation bench which I placed about five feet north of the brick edge.  It was made from two cement chimney flues and a four-foot wood board as the seat.  Around the base of the bench I piled smooth, dark river stones.

          Meanwhile, a co-worked of my husband’s, Hoyle Taylor, heard about the rock expedition foolishness and came to see it.

          When Hoyle visited we strolled down to the Zen Garden under construction where he admired the two rocks we already had.  Hoyle had connections.  He knew people who had land and I asked, “Know anywhere I can get a rock?”

          “What kind of rock?” he asked casually.

          “A bigger rock.” I stated flatly.

          “How big?”

          “Way bigger than this rock.”

          “I’ll look for one.  Does it matter what shape?”

          “No, but, it has to have character, you know . . . .” I couldn’t describe what quality I needed, but I was certain we were on the same wave length.

Several weeks later:

          Hoyle parks his truck and trailer along the road in front of our house.  He tells me, “Come see.”

          “Have I done good or what?” he asks me as I am walking to the trailer.

          “Yes, it is beautiful.”

The rock was the right size and had character with all different angles.  The color was completely different from the other two rocks that were in place.

          He jumped in the truck and drove it down and around the front of the Zen Garden and then jockeyed the trailer into position.   We discussed where the rock should be located.  He jumped back into the truck and re-jockeyed the trailer slightly differently to get it closer.

          My husband was there to help.

          Hoyle cautioned me, “Once I roll it off, it stays where it lands.   You get whatever side comes up.”

          I understood completely.

          We watched as Hoyle, a small man, jumped up on the trailer and he gave the rock a push, it moved a bit, and then another push and finally he got it to rocking enough that when he gave it a huge push it rolled over and flipped right off the trailer into the Zen Garden.

          The bottom of that rock was prettier than any of the other sides, and it sure looked like we had set it exactly where it should be.

          Hoyle refused to take any money for that rock and his trouble.  So, to me it is priceless.

This blog is in memory of

Ralph Hoyle Taylor who died December 2, 2016.

God Rest his Soul.