Most gardens have a certain "something" that defines them.
Mine, with its walls and fence and lock-'em-out gates, is unmistakably urban. Others are autographed by the latest, most unusual plantings, a tumbleweed quirkiness, or a design that's pure artistry.
Gretchen Coyle's garden is defined by the sparkling waters of Little Egg Harbor Bay, which envelops her two-acre property in Beach Haven, at the Jersey Shore.
She might be forgiven for calling this haven "Beach Heaven." That slip of the tongue accurately describes her "Little Beach Farm," which sits with three other houses on Sunset Point, a tiny spit of land jutting out into the bay.
"It's a fun spot," she says with deadpan understatement. "I consider myself a very lucky person."
We're sitting on the deck, her private beach mere inches away, chatting like old friends. Atlantic City looms across the water, just 20 miles as the crow flies but a million mental miles today.
The sun is soft and warm, the air barely 70 degrees. The sky is movie blue, the wind light and cool, and tiny waves are hypnotically tapping the shore. Timbo, a jumbo kitty the color of butterscotch, lolls at our feet.
There goes a sailboat, followed by a fishing boat, so silent and lovely. Could this day be any more pleasant?
Coyle is a retired businesswoman and freelance writer and photographer. Her husband, John, who still runs two clothing stores, is every bit the gardener Gretchen is, with an added talent for building pathways, raised beds and decks.
Good thing, because when they bought their New England-style cedar-shake home in 1980, there were bay views from every window but no gardens, no paths, no deck - and no access to the beach.
No access to the beach! That'd be like living in a penthouse with no windows!
Parents of three and now grandparents of five, the Coyles fought their way through a tangle of vines and weeds, poison ivy and wild bayberry, to carve out a path to the beach and beautiful beachside gardens.
It was tough.
The soil's more like sand. The sun, and its reflection off the bay, can be brutal.
"And when the wind kicks in from the west, the water sloshes in," Coyle says, bringing a coating of salt that can dry out and burn plants and lawn. It even glazes the windows.
No wonder, then, that so many Shore "gardens" amount to little more than a load of pebbles and a pine tree.
Over the years, Coyle has adapted her gardening style to the whims of weather and the demands of the land. "Just living here is a great lesson," she says.
