Saying goodbye is never easy, and one of the hardest parts of preparing to sell our Sarasota home is parting with my beloved garden. It’s not just a collection of plants—it’s a living, breathing source of inspiration, a place where I’ve spent countless hours planting, pruning, weeding, and simply being present.
The colors, the textures, the rhythm of growth—these things have found their way into my paintings. Each season brings something new: the sky vines never fail to put on a show, and I always feel a little thrill when our fruit trees bear loquats, avocados, and citrus. The hibiscus and birds of paradise burst with color, while the royal poinciana casts its dappled shade, inviting me to wander and take it all in.
Citrus in bloom on one of our many fruit trees.
And then, there’s the silk floss tree. Every year, from late October to early December, it transforms into a breathtaking canopy of pale pink blooms, so heavy with flowers that the branches bow to the ground. Honeybees adore it. I’ve always loved the tree’s spiky bark, too—like Hershey’s Kisses! To keep anyone from leaning against it, I planted a ring of bromeliads at its base.
Here is the silk foss tree on beautiful display as the centerpiece of my tropical sanctuary.
Over the years, I’ve learned so much about gardening—what thrives, what struggles, and how to work with nature instead of against it. Some plants didn’t make it, but many did: cacti, succulents, pencil plants. The garden has been home not just to plants but to rabbits, lizards, hummingbirds, woodpeckers, cardinals, wrens, mockingbirds, and even noisy parakeets.
A glimpse of my vibrant paperflower.
It feels like I’ve painted a living canvas here, one that changes with the seasons and the light. Letting go will be hard, but I’ll carry the inspiration with me—just as I always have.