I do both: I work on my garden, planning and changing and improving as well as doing lots of maintenance; but I also enjoy it without worrying overly about its inevitable imperfections. We're having a bad spring. It's been warm to hot and dry since the beginning of April, which some of the plants are beginning to feel, and the beetles are truly terrible this year. I don't mind sacrificing a portion of my roses to beetles, but this year they're in every single blossom, or close enough: some blooms look like Harryshoe's famous shot of Japanese beetles on one of his roses. Ugh. The peonies are full of beetles as well, and the horrid swarm is even checking out the flowers on the pyracantha. The point is, though, that I still enjoy the garden. I cut a few not-yet-damaged blooms to enjoy at the house; I admire the roses from far enough away (the less damaged ones) that I can't see the bugs; I admire the architecture of shrub and tree forms and the elegance of neatly cut grass; I spend time napping in the shade; I devote a lot of attention to my handful of richly colored clematis blooms and the stately, vertical foxgloves.
I do think it's important to have some part of the garden that I can look at and not be totally dismayed by, however horrible parts of it may be. And have places in the garden or the yard where I can comfortably spend non-gardening time. If that isn't the case, then it means that either the garden is really young and hasn't settled down yet, or that there's something wrong with the project, and it's just too difficult to maintain at a level that makes me happy.
I think that for the gardener to be happy with her/his garden, s/he needs to evaluate how much work it takes to maintain a plant, or a bed, or a grouping, to keep it looking good enough for the gardener's happiness. Black spot's not much of a problem in my garden, but quite a few of my roses get mildew. So I ask myself: How severe is it? Is it seasonal or chronic? Is it just a passing ugliness or does it kill roses? What do I need to do about it? If I can't stand it with the amount of maintenance I'm willing to give it, am I willing to get rid of that rose and find another, or get out of the rose business, at least in that spot, and plant something else or do something else with that piece of ground? I do a lot of this kind of thinking. (My answers are not too bad; seasonal; unsightly, not deadly; nothing; not applicable.)
I realize that my garden isn't going to be satisfactory all the time, but that unsatisfactory periods will come to an end, just as periods of great beauty do. In our part of the world the garden gets going well in April, achieves a great burst of glory in May that tails off in June, and then July comes and is dry and blazingly bright and hot and is really a time to sit under the wisteria pergola and eat watermelon. There are good things to look at even at the height of summer--buddleia, lavender, trumpet vine--and I try to plan the garden so that it will look as good as possible as much of the time as possible, but still there will be considerable periods when the roses are limp, burned, pitiful, and years when the bugs are just awful. And summer is that time when the only things that grow are Bermuda grass and bindweed. I think it helps to have a certain detachment about the garden; to realize that it's not totally under the gardener's control. I can't do anything about this year's heat and drought. I know this, and so I don't worry about it so much. Also this allows me to watch the garden with a certain neutrality and be interested in what happens in it, good and bad: it becomes a sort of laboratory, and I get to satisfy my curiosity about certain situations even if I don't like the results.
Melissa

In my long message I forgot something important, which is to state that creating a garden that's beautiful is profoundly important to me. I give hours, days of thought to garden design and plant selection. I always try to keep in mind the essential question: is this beautiful? does it work aesthetically? Does a given planting exploit to the full the possibilities of the site and of the plant? Is a given grouping of plants really good (I haven't gotten as far as asking myself: is it the best possible grouping)? So the acceptance of imperfection, lots of it, is not indifference to beauty. They're two different things.
A garden can be maintained to utter perfection and be completely devoid of beauty. (I see a lot of this in Italy.) A garden can have weeds and untidy grass and be a miracle of loveliness: the disheveled goddess Demeter.
So, the final answer to your question, do I relax in my garden, happy in my efforts, unbothered by any imperfections? Sometimes. Or do I keep chasing the idea of a personal Eden? Absolutely yes.
Melissa, and I think this time I'm done.

This is a great topic. Beauty is both objective and subjective. Something can be beautiful in and of itself - that rose that is at the perfect stage of bloom, without flaw or knaw marks. Then, there is beauty to us - we look at something we have worked very hard at, and see in the thing that which we have put into it, which hopefully to us is beautiful. In addition to our own subjectivity, is our perception of the subjectivity of others. We often try to look at our garden through someone elses eyes. That "critical exterior" eye, driving us to further perfection, sometimes constructive in motivating us to further effort, and sometimes not so constructive in diminishing our result and enjoyment.

Life for us is more as we perceive it, than as it is in itself. We can look at the world with a "cup is half full" or a "cup is half empty" view, but either way - it is as it is. The choice of how we see it is completely ours, to make each day.

Sometimes I don't succeed, but mostly I try to view my garden as a beautiful, magical "in progress" creation. I don't imagine getting to a point where is anything other than "in progress', but at any given time it is as amazing as mother nature herself.

I don't know if I should even express my thoughts here since I don't have beetles, blackspot, rust or much mildew to plague me. I do have heat, squirrels, other rodents and bunnies, aphids, grasshoppers and other unfriendly insects, but compared to many of you the damage seems minimal. I don't know what one can do about beetles, but I'd do my darndest to choose varieties that are reasonably resistant to diseases, even if that meant I had to grow ten of one variety. Having done everything I could to minimize the stress on the garden and the gardener, I hope I'd be wise enough to enjoy the garden in spite of the things I can't control. I think Melissa and harmonyp have given wonderful answers, which I could not better, except to say that for me it's also about the beauty of the garden, which can exist in spite of imperfections. Color, design, harmony, the interplay of density of plantings and the space around them, areas of serenity interspersed with areas of drama, all these things can be intensely satisfying in spite of the high weeds down the slope, the cracks in the driveway and the unpruned naked branches on the trees. My eyes have to be "satisfied" but that does not equate perfection. It does equate a constant striving to make the garden picture ever more beautiful. When I walk outside in the early morning I want my heart to leap. That's not perfection, but the knowledge that I've done everything I can, at that moment in time, to come closer to that ideal.

Ingrid

What lovely answers. Thank you for taking the time. I was out in the garden today again, taking advantage of some dry weather (finally!), and mulling over the question again. I began to wonder if part of the reason I like my roses (and gardening in general) as much as I do is that it really gives me no choice but to settle with imperfection. I am a perfectionist, and I think that much like anyone else, my strong suit is also my weakest area...perfectionism makes you strive for better, but it also keeps you from enjoying what, in reality, cannot be made perfect but should be enjoyed nonetheless.

I liked what you said, Melissa, about viewing the garden as a bit of a laboratory: even taking "mistakes" as cues on what/what not to do next. I also like what you said about a perfect garden that may not be beautiful. I see lots of those here...the ones that are planted for the sake of "keeping up with the Joneses", and seem to lack soul. I look at the individual plants (like harmonyp mentioned) and they are beautiful...but the whole thing lacks soul to me. Perhaps I can keep that in mind, that my garden may not be perfect but it certainly has personality and soul, at least in my own opinion.

I also liked the statement Ingrid made about your eye needing to be satisfied. That explains well something I've never been able to put to words. I move things all the time, and to others it may seem like an exercise in futility...but when I finally get the placement of a plant in the garden right, I know it. It's satisfaction, and then, as I think about it, the imperfections don't bother me as much. It's a point well taken.

I do enjoy it...a lot. I enjoy working in the garden; but I think this year I may try to just *enjoy* it a little more.

I don't question. I just plant and weed and water and prune. Once in a while I plan. Then one morning I look out the window and behold, it is beautiful.

Every year some one says to me "Your garden must be so relaxing for you" I have to laugh. I don't believe that creativity is relaxing. To make a beautiful garden or other work of art requires a lot of thought, work, "tweaking". I don't actually think it's fun, but I do think it is wonderfully satisfying. I'm concerned that you both worry about your garden and then worry about worrying about your garden. I'm striving not to do that. I do understand.

There was a (too short) story on CBS Sunday Morning today about Japanese Zen gardens. One of the most famous consists of 15 stones of various sizes set in a sea of raked gravel. From any point in the garden, only 14 of the stones are ever visible...one is always hidden depending on your viewpoint.

The idea of this is a reminder that for humans, perfection is never attainable.

I thought that was pretty cool.

I do plan for the overall design of the garden, which is kind of a cottage garden, with a more formal layout. It doesn't seem particularly formal, though, as you walk through it.

What I enjoy most, is seeing all the 'life' that comes into the garden. I plant many things, specifically to attract birds, bees, butterflies and other beneficial bugs. We also have barn kitties, who enjoy laying under a shady plant in the summer...or have the occasional toad or garden snake visit the garden.

It's also important that my nieces and nephews can enjoy the garden, so thorny roses go in the back and no dangerous/poisonous plants. I also end up with some strange combinations...like the bean teepee and pumpkin patch, in the middle of the formal kitchen garden. It all seems to work and we love it, so I'm very happy with the gardens :)

There's something relaxing about reading of other peoples' joy in their gardens, don't you think? As I read of people enjoying their gardens, and remembering some of the reasons they plant what they do, like lavender lass, it makes me think that in focussing on "perfection", I'm missing out on the joy of why I planted it in the first place.

I like the story of the Japanese garden with the 15 stones...great thought! I had to laugh though, because it would drive me nuts! I would be perpetually trying to "beat the system" and find a place where I can see all the stones. :0) I suppose that's a glimpse into my personality...like it or not! :0)

In nature there is no "perfection". No symmetry, no weed-free, the real beauty is the imperfection.

The joy of gardening is the journey, with the destination being the journey itself.

One can have a "runway-ready" garden as seen in the garden magazines, with a crew of energetic workers and the help of a good photoshop program.

If perfection was what I was looking for in my garden, I would have long ceased trying. It would have been just too disappointing to go on, with all the elements seemingly working against my vision quest.

You can have strong design instincts and still take a lot of joy in your garden, and be able to live with imperfection. This business of working out a plan until it "pleases your eye" is the search for beauty, and it's compelling. Some gardeners are more inclined this way than others, but for those who are like this, getting something really right is thrilling. And having felt the satisfaction once, we go out and try for it again.
Melissa

You've said it perfectly Melissa. The search for beauty IS compelling for those of us who have this need, and the rewards are probably only truly understood and appreciated by kindred souls who are engaged on the same quest.

Ingrid

What a wonderful thread - and what marvelously well thought out responses. All I can add is that my garden areas, which consist mostly of roses, are often a reflection of my life events. With age, I no longer rush the seasons. I've devoted hours and hours to those best laid plans - and have found that nature's selection has left spaces and gaps that lend much more to the overall garden appeal than my best efforts. I do want so much to tell myself "Wow" on occasion, but realize it is not so much my endeavors as it is something well beyond me. We strive, we lend a hand, we give it our best. And also, perhaps, with age comes more acceptance.

I just had to share this...I had a niece and some nephews out this weekend (ages 2-5) and while they like the flowers...the big attraction was the bugs! LOL

They looked around every garden...checking for 'cool bugs' and then had a great time finding my little garden statues...those little animals you see at Lowe's etc. I hide them behind some of the bigger plants, so the kids find them as they look around the gardens.

Then, one of my nephews thought the arbor was for climbing, but when I explained it was like a Walt Disney cartoon, where flowers grow over the prince/princess...he thought that was really cool! Cool seemed to be the word of the day (LOL)

Anyway, they spent almost an hour, running around in the yard, seeing the horses and playing in the gardens...and they were very good. That young and no plants pulled out or flowers picked! I was very proud of them :)

Lavender Lass,
My trick with my daughter when she was a baby and then toddler, was to allow her to touch the flowers as much as she wanted, with ONE FINGER. This worked fine. Naturally I also began teaching her from the start about not eating plants she didn't know were safe, and about the fragrant and edible delights of the garden. Now that she's twelve she doesn't take a lot of obvious interest in the garden, though she does go play around now and then in her own tiny plot of land. But she can tell cultivated baby plants from weeds better than most, and she composes lovely bouquets (she's more ruthless than I am about cutting flowers).
Melissa

Lavender Lass' story reminded me of my neighbor's neice. She was over the other day, and I was working in the garden closest to their side. She was talking about various things, simply for the sake of hearing her own voice :0), when she stopped and said, "You have A LOT of weeds in your garden!". The funny thing was that she was looking at an area of the bed that I had just spent a long time weeding and sorting out...and I thought it was looking good! The "weeds" were actually drumstick alliums, and yes, I do have a lot of them.

I thought it was funny considering this thread. I had finally gotten a small plot of the garden sorted to my satisfaction, and she thought it looked weedy. I, on the other hand, love the combination of alliums and the Golden Celebration that is just about to bloom...one of my favorites! It made me laugh. Once again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I think we as a lot are perfectionists at heart but if we take it too seriously it can be disappointing. I work as hard as I can during Spring cool weather, but once the heat sets in I have learned (I think) to force myself to enjoy what's there, perfection or not!

Look at your neighbors yards - I know in my neighborhood there are many yards with just grass (and Dallas Grass, an obnoxious weed) which doesn't get mowed much and an air conditioner.

Remember, it's the journey, right? Right!

Ogrose, I love the grass and A/C dscription, lol!!
Totally, it is the journey.

I'm loving this thread. I haven't been out weeding, deadheading etc. in the last two weeks or so because I've been on deadline for a work project. And it's been killing me, because this has been almost perfect gardening weather in southern California, perhaps some of the last we'll see before everything seriously starts to fry.
Tick. Tick. Tick. All of us hear it at one time of the year or another - that relentless internal clock we use to measure time slipping away as important garden tasks that "must" be accomplished get deferred.
Or cancelled. Prune the fig tree? Too late. This season's figlets have already formed. Prune now and I'll have a beautifully shaped fig tree. And no figs.
So I was thinking how neglected the garden was looking when I found an unsigned note in my mailbox on a bright blue index card: "Thanks for having such a pretty front garden. The colors are a beautiful addition to my morning walks."
In the eye of the beholder, indeed.
And yes, absolutely, it is the journey. What you don't realize until you've been traveling on that road for awhile, however, is that all the time you thought you were changing the garden, the garden was changing you.

Kay