THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 30, 1995 TAG: 9504300146
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: PAUL SOUTH
LENGTH: Medium: 58 lines
There is a tiny square of ground on Sir Walter Raleigh Street in Manteo that will make your grandmother smile.
Barely bigger than a bathtub, this blessed plot is bathed in color, like a Monet painting of the gardens of Paris. Regal yellow and purple pansies, electric pink impatiens, tulips in fire engine red, they all flourish here. A birdbath stands cool and inviting for any small pair of wings that may decide to swoop in for a dip. And an Adirondack-style chair sits in the center, beckoning any tired pair of feet to sit a spell.
This piece of heaven, appropriately, is next to a shop called The Secret Garden.
But folks in this Roanoke Island town remember a time not so long ago when the only thing that seemed to exist on the plot were cigarette butts, empty beer cans and scraps of paper. Not a garden then, only an easy target for passers-by too lazy to walk a few extra steps to a nearby garbage can to stash their trash.
Like the main character in a sad country song, this place was down on its luck.
Until Jerri Hopkins.
The owner of The Secret Garden, Hopkins and her husband Rufus and store manager Pam Sarvis crafted the oasis with a concoction of sweat, muscle, dirt, water, seeds and sun. Now Jerri's garden is no secret.
``I hear people when they're coming across the street, saying `What a cute shop,' and `Look what they've done to the garden,' '' Sarvis said. ``But everybody who comes by stops, and takes a minute to look.''
Sarvis remembers a day last November, when the store was jammed with customers shopping for the holidays. Even in the hustle and bustle, one visitor stood out.
``He said something that's just sort of stuck in my mind,'' she said. ``He said, `that's such a beautiful garden. It really gives people a chance to stop and reflect.' We found out the man had been sitting out there in the garden for the longest time. We didn't even know he was there. That's the thing about that garden. It makes people stop and smell the flowers.''
It has been said that good fences make good neighbors. But Jerri Hopkins took a different view. For those like me, who live or work near her garden, this treasured spot provides a touch of beauty at the end of a long day.
And for folks who are just passing through - like the man who sat for hours in the Adirondack chair amidst the winter blossoms - it provides a place to breathe deeply and remember there is beauty in the world.
Many years ago, while visiting Washington, D.C., I sought refuge from the sweltering heat in the National Gallery. In one room, Monet's flowers adorned the walls, as music by Mozart wafted through the gallery. I sat for an hour, awash in cool and color and sound.
But Jerri Hopkins' garden goes the Frenchman one better. Her flowers you can smell. And instead of Mozart, there is quiet. Peace and quiet.
Forget fences. When it comes to neighbors, I'll take a garden any day. by CNB