Grass roots retreat: a Bolton gardener starts from scratch to cultivate a peaceful sanctuary for the mind and spirit.

Betty Kilgore's garden began with a rainstorm.

But this cloudburst wasn't the kind that sends tender shoots shimmying to the surface each spring. This particular shower happened 10 years ago while the Bolton resident was vacationing in Florida. Driven indoors by the storm, Kilgore whiled away the day flipping through a friend's garden magazines.

She wasn't a gardener at the time. But something in those pages inspired Kilgore to take up a pastime that now calms her spirits more than any coastal getaway ever could.

"Gardening can leave you with a deep sense of quiet satisfaction that is truly rewarding," she says. "I can get in my garden when I'm tired and really tense, and I forget all my worries. It gives me peace of mind."

Her garden's healing nature isn't happenstance. From the very beginning, Kilgore pined for a tranquil retreat. "My overall aim was to create a sanctuary, as much a pleasure for the mind as it is for the senses," she says.

As soon as she returned from her Florida trip, Kilgore sat down with a landscape consultant to put her ideas for a peaceful oasis on paper. She didn't want boxy edges that might jangle the nerves. So the flower beds and the brick walkway feature soft curves that dress up the space like rickrack on an Easter frock. "I don't like straight lines," she says. "This is more eye-appealing."

The walkway is made of bricks salvaged from her parents' chimney, while the beds are edged with river rock that her late husband, Ben, carted by the truckload from Arkansas. "We put them down ourselves," she says. And she can still remember Ben telling her to "tighten up, Betty," whenever she threatened to fire out.

In the beginning, the couple had nothing to work with but bare dirt and patchy grass in their side yard. So the first order of business was soil preparation. They brought in loads of topsoil, sand, chipped bark, and gin mill trash, and they amended the mix with fertilizer.

It proved to be the right plan, and the garden flourished. The mature landscape now brims with plants and ornamental accessories that conjure fond memories for the Kilgore family.

A stunning statue of a nude woman with a willowy physique (and no fig leaf) calls to mind the day that Ben brought "Eve" home in the family van. And Betty can't help but smile when she glimpses the brightly colored mosaic bench that was a handmade gift from grandchildren Julianna and Cole Kilgore. The design includes a purple heart, a nod to the medal that Ben earned in the Korean War.

Another garden bench marks the spot where Kilgore's daughter Kim said her vows, despite her brother's predictions that the wedding would have to be moved indoors. "It had rained the night before, and my son Ben Jr. said, 'Just give it up and face reality,'" remembers Kilgore. "But Kim said, 'I want a garden wedding, and I've talked to the man above, and it's not going to rain.' At 5 a.m., the sun was coming up."

Like most Southern gardeners, Kilgore also possesses an abundance of pass-along plants, which remind her of friends who share her passion for old-fashioned flowers. "A lot of times, people overlook old plants ... but they are so beautiful."

Kilgore says it took a lot of trial and error to find a mix of plants that would thrive under her towering pecan trees. "I planted a lot of things to start with that I shouldn't have," she admits. But she learned techniques from other gardeners and her own research, and soon her side yard was bursting with a pleasing arrangement of color, form, and texture.

"I'd rather read a gardening magazine than the newspaper," she says. "I read to have knowledge of things to do. A good design is all about combining plants and placing them for the best effect."

A variety of perennials forms the backdrop of her garden, and she accents with pots of annuals that can be moved to take advantage of sunny spots. "I do a lot of geraniums because they are pretty and they keep on blooming if you keep them deadheaded."

Kilgore rarely grows anything from seed. "I want color right now," she says. And the preferred hues are cool colors like pink, white, and purple. Her garden features a preponderance of pink azaleas, impatiens, and caladiums, as well as a thriving cluster of purple phlox that stretches from her driveway to the front door.

Many of her blossoms come from bulbs, including tulips, irises, jonquils, and narcissus. Ferns are another favorite, and their leafy silhouette provides a calming contrast to the blooms. Kilgore also turns to shrubs, trees, and vines for color, as evidenced by the yellow jasmine, white spirea, and lavender redbuds in her landscape.

Two pineapple-themed urns flank the entrance to Kilgore's garden walkway and are symbolic of her desire to share the space with others. "Pineapples are for hospitality," she explains.

When the garden is in full bloom, it's not unusual to see plant lovers cruising by for a quick look. Kilgore has even had the pleasure of hosting a Raymond Garden Club meeting in her own personal Eden.

Most days, though, it's just Kilgore in the garden, happily puttering around her plants. While she's not crazy about digging holes or weeding, she understands the value of upkeep. "A beautiful garden is a healthy garden," she says. So she does what work is necessary, all the while anticipating the payback that arrives each spring.

"Gardening isn't a chore, it's a joy," she says. "You forget your troubles when you're out here."

PHOTOGRAPHY BY TEMPY SEGREST