Dear Readers,

Spring forth into the green of life...

The unmistakable light, colors, and scents of Spring already fill my California gardens with life. As I walk the pathways each morning, I find new bulbs peeping through the rich, dark humus. Muscari (grape hyacinth), snowflakes, tiny Iris reticulata, narcissus, old-fashioned hyacinths, daffodils (all bulbs from Old House Gardens and Brent and Becky's Bulbs) native (and fragrant) white Western Azalea, purple and white violets, coral bells, and the wild, pink currants all flaunt their blooms.

Every morning my tame scrub jay "Whispers" flies to our bedroom window and taps lightly on the glass to wake us. The minute I open the dutch door to the patio, the jay lands on or near me to take his first hand out, and the Steller's Jays, Acorn woodpeckers, nuthatches, a family of crows, and two tame squirrels queue up for breakfast.

The Anna's hummingbirds, who winter here, often are joined by the golden-tinted Allen's hummer, who vies for bathing space at the top of our trickling fountain. The shy Hermit thrush grabs fat, red pyracantha, toyon (native holly), and cotoneaster berries on-the-wing as he flies past their heavily loaded branches. The plump brown towhees swirl in front of me as I walk toward their feeder, and on a nearby branch, a silent Red-shouldered hawk takes note of everything going on in the garden.

Night life

Our nights here are raucous thanks to the pond below our terrace. The mingled voices of tree frogs, red-legged frogs, and toads create a chorus that can be heard throughout our neighborhood. Their arrival and singing seem like such a miracle to me. Imagine that just a few years ago I never saw a frog in our garden, but the magic of our pond changed that. Although our garden is miles from the nearest source of water, just a few days after filling our pond the first frogs arrived and began to sing their joyful tunes.

The new handkerchief garden

Last year, we moved a fence and enlarged our garden into what was once a sunny, open driveway. I wanted a place to have what we call "the farm"­where I could grow a great crop of herbs, veggies, edible flowers, and fruits.

With a minimum investment (the most costly thing was the new fence and steps), Jeff and I created a handkerchief-sized garden that surpassed our wildest hopes. Eight dwarf fruit trees­Mineola tangelo, Meyer lemon, Mandarin tangerine, Mexican mini lime, Desert Rose peach, Moro blood orange, guavas, and a quince­ march along the sunlit walls. Beneath them and along the pathways, patches of edible calendula, lavender (I love the Hidcote and Munstead), pinks, violas, thyme, parsley, kale, chives, onions, fraises des bois, blue-starred borage, and lettuces keep our kitchen supplied to overflowing.

I tested Brandywyne tomatoes and two large pots of grape and pear tomatoes last summer. Since our temperature seldom rises above 75 degrees, the Brandywynes were huge and gorgeous, but as tasteless as a pair of water soaked slippers. The grape and pear tomatoes were divine and produced tasty little fruits until late November. It was wonderful to return from Maine, where it was so cold our toilet water almost froze, to find bountiful crops of arugula (Renee's Garden, http://reneesgarden.com), lemons, tomatoes, oranges, and a plethora of other produce.