Good morning! I hope you are all surrounded by black-eyed Susans, many colored cone flowers and dazzling dahlias as well as the zinnias, asters, daylilies and gay feathers that are hitting their glory.

This is one of my favorite times of year in the garden because the results of all the work are everywhere.

And if Mother Nature is good, the abundance translates into vases filling the house with color and fragrance. It is just glorious. Of course, for those of you who have water bills, there might be a bit of an edge to that joy. But think of it this way: At least you have something wonderful to show for it!

This has been a particularly busy summer for some reason, and I have not taken the number of road trips that I usually jam into my schedule. Road trips are always great fun for me and a nice little getaway, if even for a few hours. I like new places and new discoveries, and most of my road trips involve a new adventure. However, there are a few places where I tend to land at least once during the gardening season and today’s column is about one of them.

I love visiting McLaughlin Garden in Paris, especially in the spring – just to walk around and be surrounded, enveloped and totally overwhelmed by the smell of lilacs. It is just one of those aromas that once you have experienced it, you hoard the lovely memory. It is also one of those fragrances that simply cannot be reproduced in a bottle.

But schedules being what they are sometimes, I missed the lilacs this year. So last week, I did something I seldom do. When my husband asked if there was anything I would like to do after church, I said, “Let’s go to South Paris.”

I knew, even with a stop for a lovely lunch, he would be back in time for his Sunday afternoon golf game. So off we went. It was one of those days you yearn for in the depths of winter. The humidity was gone. It was dry and crisp, and the sky was that azure shade that speaks of hiking, walking or anything that puts you outside. A short hop over Streaked Mountain, and we arrived outside some welcoming gates.

McLaughlin Garden was started by Bernard McLaughlin – his own kind-of, one-man show that he generously shared with whoever happened to pass by. If the gate was open, it meant come on in and sit awhile. I met and spoke with McLaughlin several times before his death in 1995. He was a reserved sort. It was entirely in keeping with the man I met that he would have enjoyed hours spent in the solitude of his creation. He would thoughtfully answer flower questions and inquiries into how he had managed this or that. But he was not a man who conversed just for the sake of it.

One slow walk through this garden will quite distinctly illustrate that his time and energy went into his garden.

This 2-acre garden is not formal, but rather like taking a walk in a quiet, protected forest that has been thoughtfully underplanted with beautiful flowers and graced with wide grass-covered paths and filled with dancing butterflies. Ivy climbs huge old trees; benches are tucked in quiet places; and it is peaceful. Wonderfully green and cool and quiet. I have often thought that if I could but find the time, it would be the perfect spot to read Robert Frost, to write poetry or sketch. It is that kind of quiet.

One of the more fascinating parts of the garden for me is the old lane that rises and winds up a hill behind the barn. With ferns and wildflowers bordering it and ancient forest overhanging, it instantly brings back childhood thoughts of what magical adventures might lie at the end if you but “followed the path.”

The gardens contain large collections of sedums, ferns, hostas, daylilies, phlox and astilbes in addition to the lilacs and over the past few years, I have never visited when there were not a wide variety of plants for sale. The wonderful aromas wafting through open windows from the Garden Cafe in the historic homestead were enticing as were the tables placed outside at which you could eat. And, for those of you who cannot resist, there is also a very interesting gift shop.

The garden is now under the stewardship of a nonprofit organization formed to preserve the historic home, barn and garden for the public. They have my personal thanks because I can’t imagine losing something so wonderful – and so very Maine.

So for garden enthusiasts, whether you are traveling from point A to point B and have only a short time or decide to gather a few friends for a tour and lunch, you should see McLaughlin’s creation. He eventually became known as the “Dean of Maine Gardeners.” And for those out there who lack the confidence to aspire to his heights, you should know, McLaughlin had no formal horticultural training. He just bought a farm and planted a garden.

Until next time, I wish you journeys that nurture your imagination, peaceful surroundings filled with flowers and secret pathways rising up hillsides that may lead to wonderful adventures – if only in your mind.

Happy gardening.

Jody Goodwin has been gardening for more than 25 years. She lives in Turner with her husband, Ike, her two dogs and two cats. She can be reached by writing to her in care of the Sun Journal, 104 Park St., Lewiston, Maine, 04243-4400 or by e-mail at [email protected].