Magic Garden Nursery

I leaped into the chill pool water today and felt like a carrot stick.  Crisped and curled at the ends.

After my near-carrot experience, I thought to myself:  "I need fertilizer!"  

In the general vicinity of El Estero Lake, across busy Fremont Street and behind El Estero Car Wash, lies a serene urban oasis called Cypress Garden Nursery.  It's an island of sorts, a small parallel universe, existing - thriving actually - amidst the din and clatter of street noise and industry all around.  Situating the nursery gardens in a busy commercial district gives them an immense appeal:  They feel much like a protected sanctuary where elfin magic has a much greater probability of existing.  The nursery has been there since 1952 or so and is run by a Japanese family whose charming and delightful aesthetic extends throughout the grounds. 

The appeal of gardening is that it lends itself to the creation of sanctuaries, nooks, walkways and organic beauty.  Almost all nurseries have some appeal, but this particular one really is something special.  So, take a walk with me and I'll show you around.

The Gardens lie in a microclimate "banana belt" formed by sheltering low hills and a bluff that shields cold winds from the bay.  (At the top of the bluff just to the east of the gardens are two of Monterey's oldest historic adobes, worth a walk up into the neighborhood on a sunny day.)  The even-tempered and mild climate is very easy on the plants, so everything looks vigorous and good. 

The grounds feel intimate yet occupy at least two acres, but all areas are easy to access, with outdoor areas arranged to the left of the parking area.  The shed, seedling beds and water fountains are to the right. Flowering plants are everywhere and are grouped according to drought tolerance and predominant colors. 

To the right of the parking area, you approach what looks like a low ranch-style wooden building that houses supplies of organic and ordinary chemical fertilizers, weed control products, tools, potting benches, seed packet displays and serendipitous odds and ends.  You can enter the main building or continue through a breezeway to wander throughout the greenhouse area, explore the furthest reaches of the potting sheds, or take a look at gurgling water features and wind chimes. 

Returning to the main building, you get to the heart of the place.  Chewey, the resident dog, pads around nudging wandering shoppers, hope filling her eyes, keen for morsels of food, quietly licking extended hands. 

The room is meant to display gardening implements.  I like to say it stocks imagination and play.  On table tops and benches are the oddest things, ranging from tiny, plump, winged Japanese angels; mechanical, wind-up toy shrimp; beeswax candles; earrings and jewelry with tiny organza bags; hats, hat racks and scarves; books; seeds; uniquely varied gift cards; sea glass, marbles and parlor games.  The emphasis is on light-hearted, hands-on living.  Here's what they say on their website:

"...we are a place where you can buy a really good sack of dirt, a pruning shear or just ask what could have possibly made that many holes in your coreopsis."

After a good, long, lazy doodling walk around, I assembled a pile of treasures near the checkout register:  Fertilizer (of course), crocs (had to join the nationwide craze sometime, right?), cards, a gardening book, and shears.  Also, a collection of interviews of great writers on CD (Terri Gross from Fresh Air, NPR).  Chewey gazed at my fingers with the look only dogs give, intensely wishing a treat might materialize out of thin air.  I'll try to remember to bring her a little something next time - my excuse to go back again.

I've been to Cypress Garden many times.  I've never felt sour, disappointed or out of sorts once I've crossed the portal there.  Not even close.  Matter of fact, I always feel uplifted, soothed and content after having gone. Definitely, my garden does better after each trip.  It's magic, true and certain.