Once Upon A Quarry

Looking around, we see no evidence of the limestone which provided the impetus for such staggering beauty. Yet it must be hidden beneath the verdant greenery and ceaseless flowers. Intent on banishing the bleakness of a colorless pit, one very determined woman spent the early years of last century creating a Japanese Garden. While her husband's cement-production business flourished, the plantings multiplied and eventually 55 lush acres nearly consumed the original site.



Almost instantly, I know that mere words cannot convey the breath-taking beauty of Butchart Gardens, about half an hour north of Victoria, B.C. No description is grandiose enough. The walkways must be wandered, the blossoms inhaled, a lifetime of adjectives consumed in an awkward attempt to relate what is being seen. With over a million visitors a year and a Canadian National Historic Site designation, the gardens always mesmerize regardless of the season.



Many incredible gardens are sprinkled throughout this world. We've seen quite a few of them and are especially fond of Kew Gardens outside London. However, Butchart Gardens belongs in an emeritus status. For us, it has no peer. When I mentioned this assessment to a staff member, the lady smiled sweetly. She intimately understood the difference.



Traveling with camera in tow, I'm accustomed to capturing scenes that are wondrous, inspiring, unique. However, I don't recall another location where it is necessary to wait your turn for nearly every single shot. Each camera-wielding (or smart phone equipped) visitor perceives the exquisite beauty all around and is determined not to leave without it.

There are no dead flowers or faded petals. Grass looks as if it were painted, not planted, it's so perfect. Whimsical topiary animals peek from hidden places. The bumblebees must be on nectar steroids as they are huge and abundant. Wood and rock has been woven into nature alongside the perfect juxtaposition of flowering and non-flowering plants. Even the wooden trash containers are topped with plant bouquets.



With ample signage, we're initially directed to the Sunken Garden with its syncopated fountain. Pausing momentarily to absorb the view, we sit on a perfectly placed bench. Arising, I catch one foot on the metal leg of the bench and quickly fall onto the gravel pathway. It's just another jaccident. (I have so many of them that I've coined a new word. It's a combination of my name and 'accident.') A cut palm begins bleeding but is quickly repaired with an ancient Band-Aid plucked from my purse. My jeans probably prevent any significant damage to either knee. I'll check for bruises later. I'm up, revived by Nurse Henry, and ready to continue the tour.



Turning toward the Rose Garden, we realize that blooms are fading but enough remain to provide a sense of their earlier florescence. Through a Torii gate, we enter the original Japanese Garden. That these plants can survive a Canadian winter is amazing. Lily pads crowd water features, conical hats hide lights. We walk to Butchart Cove where the founding family once kept a houseboat and entertained regularly. Float plane trips and sightseeing boats are available today for visitors to enjoy.



In front of the stunning Star Pond, we ask a tall, thin, possibly Scandinavian, young man to take our photo. He obliges with three views. They'll not appear in this format as one will likely be our Christmas card choice.



Next we enter the Italian Garden. It is stately, precision designed, very different from the surrounding versions.

In the Plant Identification building, the experts are asked what background they've acquired for their assignment. One responds, "A passion for plants." That's more than enough.



With multiple dining choices, we are torn. The Blue Poppy Restaurant offers spaghetti and meatballs plus a whole wheat pita with wild salmon salad. Desserts are totally deserved after all that walking. Chocolate mousse and an airy raspberry lemon chiffon slice of pie with a crust that contains Kirsch looks terrific and tastes even better. Sublime actually. Our server is a young man who's embarking upon a 'gap year' before attending college. He tells us that he hopes to join 'the forces' and thus save his parents the cost of his education. He plans to be a nurse. We learn the 'the forces' refers to the Canadian military.



One expects a colossal gift shop to match the grandeur of the grounds. There's no disappointment as aisles are trolled for parting gifts. Seeds that attract butterflies, 'can't fail' seeds for the girls to plant (marigold variety), flower postcards, and a tea bag holder adorned with a single musical note for the Portland resident will leave with us.



Reluctantly, we must leave this pastoral paradise. Infused with such splendor, we're immensely grateful that the third generation of Butcharts proudly preserves the family's botanical heritage.