Alabama Wedding Garden

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This pivilion features a fountain, seating for guests and can be converted into the setting for wedding ceremonies.

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One of the most interesting features of the gardens is the ornamental koi pond.

Another eye-catching element of the gardens is this heart-shaped topiairy, suspended in mid-air, it gives an element of mystery to this shady spot.

Just off the deck, this area is cool and shady on the most humid,hot days of summer.

The sun casts a glow over this planting of Morning Light Miscanthus, Japanese Red Maple" Crimson Queen" and Gray Owl Junipers.

View from the walkway beside the pond, a curly willow frames this area, ferns and hosta grow alongside the path.

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This is the view from in front of the greenhouse. A old oak shades this area, under it's sheltering branches grow oak leaf hydrangea's and hosta. A fountain lends an air of gentility to this truely southern scene.

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The entrance to the garden is flanked on either side by tall pines covered in ivy. Two stoic lions highlight the formal garden, and directly ahead is the ornamental koi pond.

Sept. 19, 2009

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"Life's Captured Moments" by Cindy Shaver, August 2009

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So in love....

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Erin and her mother, Jean

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Erin and her daughter, Lauren

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Girls just wanna have fun!!!

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Now, this is what a happy bride looks like!

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Matthew and Erin Logston's beautiful late summer wedding, photo's by Cindy Shaver, Life's Captured Moments

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Weddings without Stress!

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Weddings are curious things. They bring together new families, and reunite old ones, sometimes thats a good thing, sometimes not....
I see it from both sides, standing back on the outside looking in. Often there will be friction from the very beginning, and then there was the most recent wedding, where there were step-parents involved, and they all got along beautifully, which is always a blessing for the bride!
They all came to decorate, working and chatting the whole time, and while the wedding was being preformed, they all sat on the front row together, crying and smiling, side by side.
Afterward, they entertained their guests, and if people hadn't known, they'd never have guessed who was the step, and who was the original couple.
Thank God for people who put their children's big day first, and their own feelings and petty differences, whatever they may be, behind them!
When they got ready to leave ,they all shared a hug, laughing and crying again, and the beautiful bride was able to enjoy it all without worring about who was standing next to who in the pictures!

Nightime Wedding Magic

2008-07-31T17:58:00.000-07:00

Wedding of
Bill and Linda Hendrix

At night the garden takes on a magical fairytale air, twinkling lights and flickering candles add an element that the daylight hides. Soft music along with the scent of moonflowers , jasmine, and honeysuckle waft through the air creating the perfect setting for an enchanting ceremony or reception.
White dresses, flowers and tablescapes glow in the moonlight, as guests stroll along the flagstone path beside the pond. At night the garden is a wonderland of tiny white lights , romantic and unforgettable.
Of course the bride is the center of attraction at any wedding and all the flowers and landscaping only serve to accentuate her on this special night. Most brides choose to walk down the path from the back of the garden so that their family and friends can see the wedding party coming through the trees. This makes for beautiful wedding photographs.
Some couples have hired the Cinderella carriage with a huge Clydesdale-like horse to bring the bride up to the garden entrance. Stepping down from the carriage, she walks under an arch of gently blowing tulle, topped with greenery and seasonal blooming flowers.
Long dress floating over the grass, she meets her groom in the jasmine covered pavillion, and under the soft glow of thousands of tiny points of light, they pledge their love and lives to each other.
What a special and memorable wedding !

Photographer : D'Angelo McDaniel

Caterer: Cathy Flory

Floral Designer: Sharron Green

My Hometown

2008-07-05T12:36:00.000-07:00

The Saturday after the 4th of July is eerily quite. It's lack of traffic reminds me of snow days, or Christmas morning, only its so humid that the air feels almost solid when I breath it in. At seven o'clock in the morning town is barely awake, some stores probably won't open today at all. The barber shop on
Court Street is already hopefully lit up, waiting for patrons down the street at the Kountry Kitchen to finish a lazy breakfast, mulling over the paper and discussing the rainy holiday just passed.
Ken Johnson, one of the only people I saw outside, is sitting on his front porch, contemplating his lawn, probably glad that he won't have to use his sprinklers today.
Without traffic and the usual daily bustle, Moulton looks different. I try to imagine that I am a visitor seeing it for the first time. I notice the beautiful baskets hanging from the streetlight posts. All the corner flowerbeds are filled with newly planted shrubs and blooming roses. The crepe myrtles are heavy with white or pink blossoms, the green foliage all dusted and clean by yesterday's rain.
I'm sure that the rain interfered with lots of picnic's and some fireworks displays, but it was a thing of beauty to me. As I sat in the gazebo reading, the first little pings sounded like small twigs hitting the metal roof. I didn't realize it was really raining until the pings turned into lots of little zings, sharper and more numerous. I set my book aside, and gazed up into the oak tree behind me, its leaves dancing in response to the raindrops.( I thought it would probably stop, or turn into a little drizzle before it completely went away, so I was pleasantly surprised when we had a full-fledged rain that lasted most of the day.)
By now, the leaves of the oak were swaying and rivulets of rain were making their way down the ancient crevices of its bark, sliding silently downward to nourish the dry roots of the old tree. I wondered that I, who was in my garden every day, had never taken the time to stop in awe and stare at the rain hitting the leaves of the oak, each one traveling downward ,some sinking into the wood, giving life to the old giant. How many thousands of drops must it take to replenish the roots of the trees and shrubs that had gone so long without it? Would even a whole day of rain make up for the long periods of drought we've experienced lately? I hope so. No amount of sprinkling can accomplish what one good rain can do for grass and plants. I could never hope to reach the top leaves of the oak with a puny water hose.
The fields between my house and town look refreshed and alive again. Seems like it only took one day of rain to green them up again. I pray that the farmers had enough to help them, and if the weather forecast is by some miracle right this week, that they'll get more.
Yes, Moulton is sleepy this morning, guess the holiday and the rain lulled us all into taking the pace a little slower, stopping to smell the flowers is a really good idea. If I were a visitor to this little town today, I would notice that the windows of the antique shops were sparkling and artfully filled with treasures that I most certainly would want to explore.
The window boxes at the Citizens Bank building are overflowing with cheerful red geranium's , and more crepe myrtles bloom at the back of Pond Pure Catfish, planted long ago when it was the old Post Office.
The sign in the window of the old Star Theater gives a glimmer of hope that the refurbishing is finally taking place and will offer us a gathering place again, one with lots of memories and the promise that our grandchildren will have the experience of walking under the lighted marquee into that old lobby with its newly polished floors and just maybe the smell of popcorn and pickles to tickle their noses.
The beautiful gardens surrounding Moulton Baptist Church would impress me if I were a visitor, the bench welcoming, and the shade inviting.
I think the sign in Mary Martha's rose bed, at son Jon Fuller's auto repair shop,asking folks not to damage the bushes would intrigue me, looks like it means they'd pick one of the huge blooms for me if I only stopped and asked.
There is a rustic section of fence set at an angle with a grapevine wreath attached to it on the south side of Court Street, before you get to the hospital red light. It makes a lovely statement, attaching one side yard to another, giving the impression that neighbors here take the time to visit and talk across it. Maybe taking one another something fresh from the oven, or a cutting of some flower. Or perhaps just stopping there to say, "Hello, how's your Mama?"
I saw my hometown with fresh eyes on this quite morning, and even tho' there are some empty buildings that could be cleaned up and some lawns that could use some sprucing up, mostly I saw a community that is proud enough to install small pocket gardens, storefronts that look neat and restaurants that add just what every town needs, places where folks can eat and visit, some of them rustic looking, some with quirky signs and inviting sidewalk tables, and some that old southern staple, the cafe that advertises "Jumbo" hamburgers, the kind where you just know the locals will tell you to stop and eat.
I heard church bells chiming, softly breaking the morning silence, coming from the Methodist Church tower. A sound so comforting and endearing that this would be a place I know I'd remember for a long, long time.
So, when you see cars in town with out of state tags, wave and be proud of this pretty little place, and encourage others to take pride in it.Compliment the city officials, who decided to install the landscaping and the hanging baskets, on a job well done, one which benefits us all in the long run, attracting
visitors and new businesses' to our special corner of the world. Plant flowers and decorate your mailbox, who knows who will be passing through town ?
I'm sure glad it rained, I'd have been out watering my petunia's if it hadn't.

A Garden Odyssey

2008-06-30T19:05:00.001-07:00

It happened almost by accident, this garden of mine. One day following our move here in 1992, after my husband, Danny, had spent months clearing scrub pine and oak, an azalea bloomed in the underbrush that was left. I recognized it as one of the dozens that my mother had planted under the tall yellow pines when she lived here in the early 70's. This azalea was the lone survivor, and must have struggled valiantly for all the intervening years, roots compacted in the red concrete we call clay here in north Alabama. The pines were originally planted in a grove to be sold to a paper mill, but after my mother died, the property was rented and the pines, left to their own devices, along with scrub oaks and privet hedge, formed a dense thicket.
That the little azalea lived at all was a miracle in itself. She must have planted forty or more, and the one survivor had never been cared for, never treated with any of the tenderness we usually give to any young plant, never pampered or trimmed to give it a pleasing shape, never fertilized the way the ones growing here now have been. Left to fend for itself, the little shrub held on for dear life for over ten years, through some of the worst winters and long hot summers with no additional protection or watering.
When I saw it blooming among the rag-tag weeds , I realized what it was and immediately rushed to its aid, giving it a good shower with an old fashioned sprinkler, and later some plant food, then a little trim to encourage it to spread out. I put some mulch over its roots and sprayed it for the aphids that covered its leaves.
It responded rapidly and started to put out new green growth, stretching its roots in the soil softened by the mulch. Before long, it looked like an azalea is supposed to look in the South, so I rushed out and bought it a bird bath to keep it company. After a few weeks I was so enthused by its performance that I brought home some other companions. A few hardy ferns, some hosta’s and pretty blooming annuals all formed a circle around it. Thus, a garden was started, to accompany my mother’s little azalea.
A couple of years later, my husband decided to build an ornamental fish pond. When he asked me where I wanted him to locate it, I looked out at the sturdy azalea, standing tall among the mums , asters and rudbeckia that were its companions on that fall day, and pointed out to Danny that, of course, the pond had to go in next to the gardens’ original occupant.
He started digging just in front of the little flower bed, moving the hard clay with just a shovel and some elbow grease. Sometimes I wondered if he would ever complete the task, working in his spare time, sometimes hitting rocks and the unforgiving roots of the tall pines.
A red clay hill rose up alongside the little flower garden with its birdbath and its steadily growing group of shrubs , which now included our first bagged and bur lapped Christmas tree, a small white pine, and a little curly willow, bought as a bare root plant at a sale.
The hole and the red hill got bigger alongside each other and one day I looked out to see that my husband, who can be quite gruff at times, had formed the pond in the shape of a heart.
We started to comb the surrounding hills and roadsides for the sandstone that our north Alabama mountains are filled with. We picked them up all spring and summer, and early in the fall, we had enough to go around the sides and to form a reasonably large waterfall. We purchased a thick rubber liner, and stretched it over the hole, which now had smooth sides and shelves on which to put potted aquatic plants. My daughter-in-law, Kristina, several months pregnant with our first grandchild, waded around and put the smaller rocks in place and in no time we added small comet goldfish and some floating plants.
So began our odyssey with gardening, from a struggling azalea and a pond in the shape of a heart, we have grown into a full-fledged garden, populated by thousands of plants, with a pavilion , a greenhouse, a patio kitchen and even an outdoor shower, hosting weddings and reunions and other gatherings where folks walk around and look in amazement , always asking, “How did you get started?” , and I look over at the azalea, still gracing the far side of the pond, and picture my mom in a red sundress, breaking up the hard red soil and planting the little gallon sized plant so long ago, and I always say, “ It started with Mother’s azalea, right over there.”