The Lord Nelson Bed and Breakfast in Victoria, BC, Canada features a many faceted, extensive collection of garden beds. Tucked into corners and built up from previous grassy expanses, lots of nooks and crannies now burst with colourful life.

We have hacked away at extensive ground cover, and meticulously carved existing bushes and trees into their formerly glorious states. Through the years, layers of bulbs and perennials were lying in wait for us to open up their access to sunshine and air, rewarding onlookers with their comeback performances after years of dormancy. Two bright orange tuberous begonias threw up their fuzzy leaves, once smothering junipers were cleared from on top. Blue bells tentatively pushed skinny stalks towards the light, testing the clearance as they tried to fight through over a foot of heavy soil. We had to dig deeply to free those fighters, but now are rewarded with an ancient but thriving crop.

Old, mangled irises formed a formidable rock-hard mound in one section of the property until we hacked through the iron-like roots, and spread their wealth throughout the property, distributing pieces to appropriate backdrops. Still we have to keep an eye on their ancestral grounds for stragglers.

The hopeful former resident had planted kiwi and grape vines along the back fence, complete with a sturdy frame to grow up, but we had other plans for that area and dug the young plants up, giving them away to appropriate aficionados. To our surprise, the grape roots had left an occupying force beneath ground, and heartily grew up the sweet pea netting the next summer! We gave in to a greater power and provided them with the appropriate arbour, of which they gratifyingly (and triumphantly) took possession.

Let's take a tour of the property starting with those possessive grape vines. They cling to the arbour along the back fence, which borders the country estate behind us. Fortunately this five-acre estate abounds with glorious gardens, being transformed into an exclusive resort, complete with herb gardens, ponds and fountains. Strawberries and blueberries occupy one end of our grape arbour, and taming the strawberries is a story in itself.

Where the stubborn irises still pop up, a tropical bed is taking shape in anticipation of the
Gazebo or trellised seat Rick has promised. So far, a banana tree is feeling its way, and easy-going yuccas, and a windmill palm. This palm was planted mid-summer, and gamely fought for a foothold amidst the volunteer tomato plants. That's another story. Interesting grasses flank the entrance-way, as do some of those ubiquitous irises.

Ever since we plowed under a huge crop of volunteer tomatoes in this spot, we've been weeding them out of every bed and pot, this being the source of soil-mixing each spring.

The back garden courtyard is enclosed with cedars and a black picket fence, so we added some interest with a bed along the length of the private parking lot, which shares the fence. Again, irises form the backbone, but another forest of stalk owners, crocosmia, has been divided into umpteen clumps and is interspersed with the irises for its display of red strings of beads in late summer. A similarly stubborn crop of daisies has been ousted from its former home in front of the stone fence at the other side of the house. Now they occupy places where things are hard to grow. Their exuberance has free reign, and they can't take over other less invasive varieties. As with other shaded spots in our garden, primulas edge this bed. They have been divided and divided, until rows of them lie with their siren-like aromas, tantalizing the famous west coast slug population.

This is a battle I'll go to my grave fighting. I no longer use tweezers, or any such gadget that would simply slow down my slug-picking. I simply toss them onto the road or driveway for the many birds to feast on. The amount of beer I would use to drown the locust-like creatures would put me in the poor-house, so in several spots I've resorted to plants less captivating to my slimy nemesis.

Inside the back garden courtyard, the cool and private area is grassed up to the tall cedar hedge. A winding path of stump cuttings is sunken into the grass in a whimsical manner, leading nowhere in particular. In the back corner, large pots of petunias, impatiens and lobelia overflow like a waterless waterfall.

Along the back of the house in this garden, more daisies have their way, interspersed with hostas. These lovely-leaved plants have all hailed from two original survivors in the existing garden. Now there are scores of them thriving in several beds. They love this cool, shady bed, and gladly share with sweet woodruff, lobelia, irises and crocosmia. A few spring bulbs are also scattered in for colour interest. Above this hang several pots, filled with fuchsias and lobelia during summer months. The black wooden beams of the house against the white plaster make a classy background for these colourful baskets.

Either side of the Rose suite door on this wall, standard fuchsias proudly throw out their armloads of ballerina flowers from wooden sentinel pots. Some ten years old, these fuchsias have been tenderly cropped into shape and babied throughout many winters. Again, lobelia flanks them for a spot of contrast.

Now, in the hot tub corner the garden has a sunnier disposition, which calls for a brighter, bolder assortment of flowers and bushes. Alongside the top of the fence we share with our neighbour, a long pot spills its petunias and alyssum, and any self-seeded annuals that take root. Either side more fuchsias and lobelia hang in baskets, with alyssum providing the contrast. Below is a bed with an old rose bush, which refused to give up while it waited for better days. It fought with a morning glory vine for prominence, and who knows how it found enough water, but now we're rewarded with a gazillion blooms for our care, some of which find their way to breakfast plates to delight our guests. We've added a couple of Rhododendrons, primulas and irises, and a new stump provides just the right height for another flowerpot of annuals. Yes the stump is new due to yet another juniper meeting its demise.

We enhanced the Rose kitchen window outlook by adding more hanging baskets and a flowerbox of petunias, alyssum, lobelia, pansies and marigolds. The odd snapdragon always takes root in our pots and baskets too.

Winding around the corner back towards the back courtyard, a bed hugs the wall. Home to an azalea, primulas and some eunymous, this bed is crowded with self-seeding pansies, alyssum and snapdragons. Here some bulbs have been started, consisting of tulips, grape hyacinths and daffodils.

Our garden tour picks up again along the side of the manor house, where a handsome fatsia has hosted its fellow plants for many years. Just outside the Rose suite window, a colourful flower box skirts the windowsill with all manner of blooms, accompanied by hanging baskets with 10 year old fuchsias. A hydrangea nods in the breeze to greet visitors next to the front doors, along with two watchful gargoyles.

Closer to the front of the house, another flower-bed bustles with blooms. Sweet woodruff, when in blossom, seduces all passers-by with its heady scent. Guests arrive asking what wonderful aroma is in the air. In flower at the same time is a spring clematis, growing so prolifically that the wrought iron fence disappears under billowing pink.

This same part of the entrance also boasts the "taxi seating". Created to seat those waiting for cabs, or waiting for a slower companion to get ready, this spot is great for watching the birds in the tall poplars across the way. Also our local squirrels use the overhead wires along the street as a "highway". Some take the "Lord Nelson" exit and head into the estate behind us. A family of finches nested in one of our front door hanging baskets one year, nonchalantly flitting in and out regardless of slamming doors and bustling people.

The view of the garden from the front of the house is always a colourful sight. From early spring (around here the daffodils bloom mid-February!), there are always new flowers in bloom. We spend heavenly hours each day dead-heading and staking our "babies" to keep the show going. Our charges perform perfectly, rewarding us with stunning colours. Our asters were the stars one year, earning a re-location further back the next year so that their less ostentatious companions wouldn't miss their time in the limelight. An old wheelbarrow sees retirement use as a flower container, and large logs serve as pillars to hold pots overflowing with blooms.

Each year we anxiously await the new surprises our gardens present. One year some broad-leafed mystery plants appeared all in a row in the front courtyard. Eventually we surmised that those busy little squirrels had raided a bird feeder somewhere and chosen our flowerbeds as a hiding place. As usual, they forgot where they buried their loot, and we were the recipients of a fabulous crop of dwarf sunflowers. We saved the seeds for the next year, but never could repeat the bushy, Raggedy-Anne successes the green-thumbed squirrels had.

Since we moved in, our neighbours have thrown themselves into our garden project. We ordered soil our first month here to create the front beds, and as we sipped our tea on the morning it was delivered, we saw through the front windows that our neighbours had put together a work-crew and were shovelling soil into the beds from the waiting pile! Little tots with tiny spades, and moms and dads with their shovels greeted us. What a lovely gesture! Never mind that I had other ideas for location, the thought was beautiful. Neighbours brought over local flora to add to the bed, and soon we had both native plants and some specialty blooms all thriving alongside each other. One local beauty was the pitcher plant. With HUGE purple blooms the first year it was spectacular, but came with a shocking setback. It stank. For two days we put up with the cadaver-like smell, then it ceased the attention-getting act. We enjoyed the tropical look for several weeks. Unfortunately the next year it had quadrupled, and so had the smell. For a week it continued to open new purple pitchers until we finally said "UNCLE". We dug it up and relegated it to a dump far away.

No kidding about the February daffodils. Not only do we count our blossoms here in Victoria, but we also have boulevard trees in full bloom weeks before our mainland counterparts! Our street is one of the prettiest around, sporting a canopy of pink blossoms as far as the eye can see. All that's missing is a princess in a horse and carriage clopping along beneath them.

Moving along to the far side of the property, our wrought iron and stone fences always look very regal with the various types of clematis adorning them. All season one or the other is in bloom, but the crowning glory is our "cup and saucer" clematis. With blossoms as big as your hand, it clings to the fence in a seductive hold.

Alongside this siren-like giant clematis flower is the crocosmia; brilliantly red with a trail of blossoms opening along many spikes all bunched together for optimum attention. This settlement had to be moved further along the wall. It was drowning out our lovely show-off clematis. Now both are happy and blooming contentedly.

Above all these bustling family members, the Wisteria lovingly embraces the corner of the house. Having been twined around its companion since both began, this vine has a thick base and a naughty habit of trying to poke its way under the wood beams. We wrestle it each year into submission, and luckily it still rewards us in the spring with heady scented flowers.

The Wisteria winds its way over the kitchen garden arch where it greets its cousin, the Passionflower vine. This vine coats the kitchen porch with lush leaves, accented with the waxy tropical appeal of its flowers. Sometimes up to three bees drunkenly dance around the beautiful blossoms in a ritual of appreciation. For a showstopper, we frequently float some blooms in glass dishes at the breakfast table. It makes a delightful icebreaker for our guests as they explore more of this bounty from our magical island.

Stay tuned for the next instalment of the Lord Nelson gardens. Yes, there are more nooks and crannies to explore!