All gardeners and their friends have experienced a benign version of Scrooge’s chain-rattling Christmas phantom, the specter of Gardens Past. “Oh, you should have seen it last week…” is the first thing we say to visitors to our gardens.

Yet, regardless of the season, in every garden, every day, there are small wonders that will capture and hold us blessedly apart from time for as long as we indulge ourselves. In well-designed gardens, these vignettes are built from experience. But even in gardens that are haphazard collections of one-of-a-kind plants, there are serendipitous plays of light on opening buds, spider webs catching dew drops, and dragonflies darting past. Like old Ebenezer, let’s defy time and travel to these places now.

It is February, and the chattering of shrikes claiming nesting places is a raucous counterpoint to the steady hum of winter jasmine, where bright yellow flowers are so abundant so early in the spring that honeybees bob and weave in an organized frenzy of nectar gathering. The fragrance of winter jasmine blossoms is faintly sweet and honey-like, a promise of the new year, quite unlike the almost overpowering scent of other jasmines. We pause, absorbing the sound and scent of the earth emerging from a restorative winter.

Rising early, steaming cups of coffee in our hands, we wander out to a bench in a far corner of the garden. It is June, and by nine o’clock it will be too hot to linger, but as the sun just breaks the horizon, the ruffled flowers of desert four o’clock glow like dozens of tiny ballerinas in the slanting sunlight. Hawk moths hover, probing each blossom for its sweet nectar. The dance of the moths vibrates the slender flower stems as an empathetic shiver of electricity creeps up our spines. It could be a caffeine buzz, or is it the sheer joy of the moment?

It is September, and the garden is looking a bit ragged at the edges, quite literally going to seed. The sun, so relentless a month ago, is lower in the sky and casts a kinder light on the brilliantly purple spikes of gayfeather running like a ribbon through the grama grass prairie. We wander out into the field and a cloud of butterflies surrounds us, inviting us to join their dance. A Painted Lady alights on your shoulder and is off again so quickly you wonder if you really did feel her touch. The gift of peace is both calming and energizing.

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