The Rock

There once was a rock in the middle of the water with a wee bit of furze (looks like scotch broom, but it's not) and heather covering her.   The rock was unimpressive, nondescript, and hostile to all other forms of plant life.  Hostile happens when there is no soil on which any plant in its right mind can place roots. Alas, I realize I have implied that furze and heather are not in their right mind, but I've also implied that plants have a mind, so perhaps I am the one who is not in her right mind.

I digress.   This rock, located squarely in the middle of Bantry Bay in southwestern Ireland, went unnoticed for a very long time.   Until, one day, the British decided to build a fat round tower on top. They had little interest in the rock, but great interest in the defensive capability of the tower.  

Eventually, the British tired of beating up the Irish, and left (well, kind of).  The rock and its tower sat alone and unnoticed once again.   But then, in the early twentieth century, a man named Bryce bought it and hired a man named Peto to plant a garden on the rock. Peto did an admirable job of hauling soil, rocks, and other fundamentals to plant life over to the island, employing one hundred men, several years, and lots of money to do so.   Then, he put delicate plants from all over the world on this fresh new soil and renovated rock.   And, after taking one look at the brutal Atlantic winds blowing in from the South.... they died.

Bryce was not pleased with the situation, threw Peto into the wind, and hired a master gardener from Scotland (Murdo Mackenzie).   Mackenzie had the brilliant idea that perhaps all the fragile and delicate plant life transported from all over the world didn't particularly appreciate the brutal Atlantic winds.  So, he planted all manner of Scot and Monterrey pine in belts that sheltered the wee little delicate plants from those mean nasty winds.   And, sheltered as they were,... they didn't die.

In fact, they thrived and multiplied and managed to get along with hundreds of green friends from all over the world, until the island was nothing at all like its former sterile self:

Mackenzie spent the rest of his life making sure that Garnish Island remained a stellar example of gardening gone right.   The gardens were embellished with many an art form, including the traditional Italian garden layout:

Mackenzie could be an inspiration to us.  Someone told him you couldn't turn a sterile rock in a wet, cold climate into a slice of lush garden paradise.   But, he spent his life proving SOMEONE wrong.

Single mindedness does have its advantages.   Garnish Island in southwestern island can attest to that.