Petals, pots, and possibility

This spring has been exceptionally fine, don’t you think? The sun has been measured, bright and a bit misleading as there has still been a crisp in the air. The rain has been generous but never unruly. On clear days, when the sky stretches blue and untroubled, the expanse of rolling hills and carpeted sloping valleys around Zurich are full of blushing buds.

Each year, since I’ve moved to Zurich, I’ve planted a balcony garden — a little corner of beauty that makes me sigh with contentment. I usually wait, wary of the Eisheilige, or "Ice Saints," that lingering chill in May so familiar to Central European gardeners. But this year, I threw caution to the wind. The pull of petals was too strong. I am trying to be vigilent and hope I won’t lose my beauties in my haste!

Container gardening became a passion of mine during my years in Saudi Arabia. As soon as the temperatures dipped, I’d fill every available pot with annuals — their colors carefully coordinated for planned hosting during the cool social season. Soft blushes of impatiens, cool lavender petunias, sunny marigolds — all dancing briefly before the May heat arrived with its withering kiss.

During those days, I often had Garden Answer, a delightful and ever-inspiring gardening vlog, playing in the background as I moved about the house. That vlog planted visions of French and English garden traditions, naturalistic plantings, soft color palettes, and timeless structure in my head.

Moving from a zone 10/11 to a zone 7 has meant that , I’ve tried to make my gardening daydreams come true. This spring, my vision was simple, abundant, and rich in texture and scent. I arranged tall terracotta pots brimming with herbs — one filled with spiky rosemary, French lavender heavy with perfume, and feathery coriander. Another plays host to a clipped lavender topiary, its silvery foliage contrasting beautifully with tumbling thyme and the round, glossy leaves of oregano.

In the largest planter box, I’ve created a small tapestry of purple and white — deep-faced pansies nestled among loose-leaf lettuce and calming chamomile. Woven baskets cradle tomato plants, their leaves already brushed with the spicy scent of promise, and smaller pots spill over with sprigs of mint, waiting to garnish summer drinks. One glorious orange blossom bush stands proudly in a clay pot, its buds tightly furled but beginning to blush with colour — a beacon of the brightness to come.

And this year, for the first time, I’ve dared to plant a hydrangea macrophylla in the rich, romantic ‘Red Sensation’ variety. Its bold mophead blooms promise to open in tones of garnet and raspberry, a daring addition that I hope will thrive in its sheltered spot.

Flowers bring me an inexplicable joy — a joy passed down, I believe, through the hands of my mother and grandmother. They were the sort of gardeners who would press a cutting into the hands of a visitor with a few whispered tips on care, or return from a walk with a humble sprig that would soon flourish in a corner of the garden. Their love for growing things was quiet and generous, and I hope to carry that spirit forward.

One day, I dream of a garden on a grander scale — a landscape in the style of Bunny Mellon, where swathes of golden daffodils dance along a winding drive, shallow Grecian terracotta bowls overflowing with jewel-toned tulips — ruby, plum, and amethyst — nod in the breeze, honeysuckle climbs a trellis over a shaded path and night-blooming jasmine adds romantic intrigue to a moonlight stroll. Fruit trees — apricot, cherry, and pear — planted to mark family milestones, while a kitchen garden would burst with courgettes, strawberries, peppers, and every good thing. Around every corner, a fragrant surprise; every step a dance with the seasons.



Gardener’s Notes: Save Your Eggshells & Coffee Grounds

A small tip from one balcony gardener to another: don’t discard those kitchen scraps. Eggshells and coffee grounds can be invaluable additions to your soil.

Eggshells

  • What they offer: High in calcium, crucial for preventing blossom end rot in tomatoes and peppers, with trace minerals like magnesium and phosphorus.

  • How to use: Rinse and crush them finely — the smaller the pieces, the quicker they decompose. Add to your compost, mix into planting soil, or scatter as a top dressing.

Coffee Grounds

  • What they offer: Rich in nitrogen, they also bring small amounts of phosphorus and potassium, while improving soil texture and water retention.

  • How to use: Work them lightly into the soil or compost. Use in thin layers — too much can create a water-repellent crust. If you’re not a coffee drinker, do what I did, I used to collect mine from the barista at my office in Saudi Arabia.