It's been a dramatic day on the landscaping front. Early this afternoon, a gargantuan truck with a huge crane delivered the rocks -- significant rocks; we're not talking pebbles -- for our garden-to-be. The driver, to our great relief, was an absolute pro. He didn't snag any overhead wires (a strategically-applied push-broom helped) or destroy personal property in the process, a significant possibility when you're swinging around half-ton potential projectiles.
Under Grace's direction, Micha and David eased each boulder into its pre-dug, pre-assigned crater, and then guided the pallet of flagstones onto an empty spot on the rapidly-disappearing lawn.
By the end of the day, the path was in place, and the sparse grassy patch in front of Casa Jereva well on its way to transmogrification.
Each little (a relative term) boulder is a thing of beauty. Grace put a lot of thought and care into choosing them. The shapes and colors are entrancing. One roundish stone with a concave top will surely become a natural birdbath.
It's so cool to glance out and see a curving flagstone path to the front door. This is exactly the way it should be.
I'm sitting in the living room, watching the shadows cast on the contours of the basalt column by the evening sun. Soon these massive stones will be accent pieces, surrounded by plants and eventually, perhaps, covered with moss. Right now, though, they're the main event.