See How They Grow

To explore the passion that puttering around in the backyard can inspire, we visited some folks for whom gardening, Southwest Florida style, has become an essential part of everyday life.

A secret garden

The courtyard in front of Laura Coccomo-Hajjar's North Naples condominium is a bit on the small side. But that hasn't stopped Coccomo-Hajjar from transforming it into a place of wonder. Bronze butterflies and fairies peek out from behind pots of impatiens and geraniums. An inviting cast iron bench rests against a wall, next to a fragrant pot of herbs. A hummingbird wind chime adds a delicate aural counterpoint.

But this is not only a welcoming entrance-it's also a child-scale garden where Coccomo-Hajjar teaches her young daughter, Julia Rose, the magic inherent in flowers, plants and trees.

"That's why it has a whimsical theme," says Coccomo-Hajjar. "I want to do it for Julia. I want things that are going to catch her eye. I put in the butterflies and fairies because I have a lot of books about fairies. I want to encourage her imagination."

Coccomo-Hajjar also wants to foster the enthusiasm for gardening discovered while she and her husband, Michael, were living in Connecticut. But condo life means she must take advantage of container gardening. And she has had to learn some Florida gardening techniques-what will grow when, what plants can take the heat and which can survive the occasional cold snap.

"I read gardening books and try things. I'm attracted by colors, and I plant mostly annuals because if I get sick of looking at them I can change them around. I change my pots out twice a year, and I don't grow from seed because I'm an impatient gardener."

Because she is so guided by color and impulse, Coccomo-Hajjar doesn't really have a master plan for her garden. She frequents various nurseries and buys what catches her eye.

"You really can plant anything," Coccomo-Hajjar says. "You know some things are going to get overgrown, but you cut them back. Things come in and out, and I really like that."

Some plants, though, are constants. She tends three lovely bonsai, including a desert rose brought from Connecticut, because her husband likes them. And there is that kitchen garden of herbs by the door, because the couple enjoys cooking with fresh herbs.

"We have Lebanese oregano, thyme, chives, parsley, basil and mint," she says. "And lavender, because I like to walk out the door and rub my fingertips in it. I've noticed that Julia will do that now, too-rub her fingers and sniff them."

An Old-Florida oasis

For Judy Sproul, gardening isn't just a pleasant private pursuit. It's a passion that she extends to others, showing them how they can enhance their surroundings and enrich their lives.

Sproul's home, in the Grey Oaks community of Naples, is a reflection of her private side. The granddaughter of county founder Barron Collier, she has an abiding respect for the region's natural beauty. From the wide, welcoming porches of her Old Florida-style home, she can enjoy views of her grounds, which exhibit the many hues and textures of greens that are natural to Southwest Florida. Yes, there are plenty of flowers here, but the overall effect is of a cool green counterpoint to the hot climate, rather than a wild riot of color.

"My grandfather loved trees," Sproul says. "And my aunt loved flowers. I'm not an expert; I just have fun. And I'm always learning something."

The expansive pool area at the rear of the home is Sproul's personal gardening center. The free-form pool is surrounded by bromeliads. A trellis covered with orchids stands to one side. Pots of flowers are scattered about, and banks of plantings edge the area. "This is where I live," Sproul says. "I'm like someone who collects things. If you like something, you can find a place for it. I just try to remember what I have. I like to do a background and then try to get a dominant color. I like white a lot, because it stands out. It's fresh and clean and crisp."

The backyard is where she lets her rambling roses grow as they will. One side is the "casual" area, where her grandchildren can play hide and seek.

After the house was built, Sproul at first left most of the outside gardening to the landscapers, but soon she took an increasing role in determining the look and feel of the grounds. As a general partner of the developer, the Barron Collier Partnership, she has also has grown more involved with the grounds of Grey Oaks. Her latest undertaking is a botanical garden on an island in one of the community's lakes.

"I take a personal interest," she explains. "I really want to show people what they can grow in Florida. We even tried some things on the island that aren't typical Grey Oaks plantings, things like gumbo limbo and roses. Because we have people walking here, I want to make it all pleasing. I want your eye to see something new around each bend."

Paradise for orchids

Stepping into Ben and Dodie Briskey's backyard lanai is like stepping into Shangri-La. A 6,000-gallon pond, home to some two dozen koi, burbles with the sound of three waterfalls. On the banks of the pond, bright- green mosses cover rocks that gently give way to cypress trees, bromeliads and flashy lobster-claw helleconias. A small bridge invites the viewer deeper into the scene.

But it is the orchids that really take a visitor's breath away. There are dendrobiums, vandas, phalaenopsis, cattleyas, oncidiums and several hybrids, all growing much as nature intended.

"Everyone who comes here thinks it's so peaceful and tranquil," says Ben Briskey. "I've never heard such oohs and aahs. It makes me feel really good."

Ben was first smitten with orchids about 40 years ago in Nashville, when a friend gave him some specimens. Then his work led him to Hawaii for 15 years, where he and Dodie discovered a perfect place for nurturing a growing infatuation. When retirement prompted the couple to seek a place that resembled the Hawaiian climate they'd grown to love, Naples seemed to offer everything they were looking for-except that their Crayton Road home didn't have the spectacular views they were used to. "It was just a basic backyard," says Dodie.

The Briskey solution: Extend the lanai, install a new screen and hire Dick Wild of Lotus Tropical Gardens and Bonsai to design and build the pond. Wild also found the three cypress trees that form the scenic backdrop.

"It's natural to attach orchids to the cypress trees," says Ben. "They grow better that way because that's how they grow in the wild."

The Briskeys eventually added an orchid house off the lanai, so Ben can rotate plants as they come in and out of bloom. One of his proudest specimens, developed by another orchid enthusiast, is the Christeara Dodie Briskey. It has some 500 other plants for company.

"I don't think there is any such thing as a stopping point," says Dodie of their passion for orchids. "It just kind of keeps on growing."

Gardening for the birds

We grow everything," says Rosalie Gianfer-rarra. Judging by the yard of her Bonita Springs home, the assertion is easy to believe. The driveway is flanked by mango trees and flowering bushes. A vegetable garden flourishes in the back. The vacant lot next door, recently bought by Gianferrarra and her husband, Bob, is starting to show the signs of cultivation. Fresh green stalks and leaves are everywhere.

It is indoors, however, that the jewel of Gianferrarra's gardening efforts sparkles. In a space once occupied by a simple patio and a kiddie pool, she and Bob have created a screen-enclosed tropical jungle. Around a small pond grow palms, banana trees, maidenhair ferns, azaleas, bromeliads and orchids. Dozens of small wicker and wood birdhouses dot the branches and create an inviting home for Gianferrarra's numerous and beloved birds.

"I raised pigeons with my brother when I was growing up on Long Island," Gianferrarra explains. "When Bob and I married, we bought canaries. They had babies, and he started breeding and showing the birds. At one of the shows, I saw a Goulian finch, and I started with finches."

The canary room is on one side of the screened garden, the finch rooms on the other. In breeding the finches, Gianferrarra discovered that they were more comfortable and reproduced more freely when allowed a more natural habitat.

"The room with the trees is the parenting area," she explains, pointing to another screened area that abuts the centerpiece lanai. "It's very safe there for the birds, and they like to feel safe. They're more comfortable with plants around them. I put mine loose on this lanai, and they breed like crazy for me."

Droppings from the bird rooms are swept up and mixed with cow manure to fertilize the backyard vegetable garden. "We are all creatures of nature," says Gianferrarra. "And we all like to bring nature into the house."

Lore of the roses

Won't you come into our garden? We want our roses to meet you." So reads the small sign near the arbor at the entrance to Joan Vigneau's rose garden. It is, she says, an invitation that passersby frequently accept.

"We have neighbors across the street who go for a walk every day," says Vigneau. "They come in and look all the time. Roses are nice to share with others."

Her pleasure in sharing seems a natural outgrowth of Vigneau's love for her roses. The formal rose garden at her North Fort Myers home is patterned after the one behind the Florida governor's mansion in Tallahassee. After making a trip there with her family about 10 years ago, Vigneau returned home, sketched out the radial pathways and round mini-gardens, then enlisted her husband and friends to help her start digging.

Over the years, the garden has evolved. Concrete supplanted the gravel paths, and a gazebo now offers respite from the sun. And where once there was a mix of flower types, now roses are everywhere. It was definitely a process of trial and error, Vigneau admits. She started with 19 rose bushes, but it was only a few months before they started to go downhill. As Vigneau discovered, growing roses in Southwest Florida can be a tricky business. The planting holes have to be specific sizes. Fertilizing, misting, deadheading and spraying fungicide and/or insecticide are continuing chores. And it is vital to start off with healthy, vigorous plants grafted onto fortuniata rootstock. "I have maybe 40 different kinds of roses now, not including the miniatures," says Vigneau. "I'm not sure because I've never really counted."

Wandering through Vigneau's garden is not only a visual and aromatic treat, it's also a walk through history. The ancestors of her roses come from different corners of the world and span the centuries. The white Posterity that graces one arbor dates from 1919; the pink Margo Kostner from 1928; the fragrant Sombreuil from 1850. "I even have one garden rose, Souvenir de Malmaison, whose root stock dates back to Napoleon's wife, Josephine," says Vigneau. "She had him bring back roses from everywhere."

Vigneau, now vice president of the Greater Fort Myers Rose Society, can explain the difference between old English garden roses and the newer hybrid teas, between single and multiple petal miniatures, between the damage done by spider mites and thrips. She knows that planting society garlic in between the rose bushes helps to keep down the spider mite population and why it's important to cut bushes back to outward growing budeyes. Sitting in her gazebo, sipping iced tea, Vigneau talks about the many uses for roses-in potpourri and cooking, to make stationery and jewelry. "Roses will bloom throughout the year here," she says. "I just love them."