My friends and fellow Master Gardeners Oz and Audrey Osborne recently headed south, on a destination-free vacation. “Are you going through Pennsylvania?” I immediately asked. “If so, you have to go to Chanticleer.”

I don’t know if they made it before Chanticleer closed for the season or not, but I hope so. And if you haven’t visited this lovely public garden, make your plans now for 2011. They’re open from April through October, I think you’ll be inspired and delighted. If you’re a fellow out-of-control plant person, you’ll start to hyperventilate as soon as you walk through the entry gates.

What’s so special about Chanticleer? I can list several things without putting much thought into it: The range of plants used is far-reaching and phenomenal, the balance of plants with hardscape or ornaments is perfect, there are touches of whimsy and visual surprises everywhere, and the gardens are a lovely combination of a gardener’s design and letting the plants have their own way.

Chanticleer might challenge the visitors who want to see large beds of annual flowers a la Buchart Gardens, or those who want to see each variety in a separate area with mulch in between. At Chanticleer, many gardens more closely resemble how plants grow in the wild: in communities.

There are places that stir us because they are artistic, holy, historic or wonders of nature. Some of these are destinations, and others are in our own backyard, and finding the ways that these two intersect is one way we grow.

I love the use of rebar to create these arches in the flower and veggie garden at Chanticleer.

This is just one example of a packed garden where the plants are intermingling.

Color and texture of foliage is paramount at Chanticleer, and there are many areas that creatively use plants from many climates and parts of the world, mixed in together.

Today I flew home from the GWA meeting in Raleigh. I am always grateful when air travel is uneventful, and thankful when I have a good book to make the hours of waiting, flying and commuting from the airport fly by. On this trip, I read Away, by Amy Bloom. I finished the book two miles from home, and it was one of those great reads that I was sorry to see end.

I was pleased to see that the gardens still look great – more photos to come this week. I am thrilled that there are still many fresh figs to harvest; this year we covered the tree with netting, so the crows haven’t snatched the fruit as it ripens.

I’m equally thankful that I was able to attend the conference and be inspired by the networking, story tours and the lovely gardens we saw yesterday. Just getting out of my normal routine was valuable, as was being in another part of the country. Every so often we should all move a few states to the north, south, east or west, just to shake up our perceptions and thinking for a while.

And it’s good to be home. Dorothy (in The Wizard of Oz) says that she’ll never again look for her heart’s desire outside of her own backyard. While I agree that it’s all happening in our our own backyards, I am grateful that I can occasionally travel to places such as Helen Yoest’s backyard, and be inspired by what other people plant.

We thrive when we’re at home, but benefit from occasionally getting away.

Helen Yoest's website is called Gardening With Confidence, and one look at the side garden in front of her house lets you know that she "walks the talk".

Helen Yoest sited her tomato and vegetable bed where there was the most sun: in the front of the house. Perfect.