Healing garden soothing, inviting outdoor space

In 1999, Darina Green was in a car accident and suffered a serious brain injury.

“I couldn’t think well. I had unusually bad headaches. Nothing helped the excruciating pain,” the Spokane Valley woman said.

One day, in the grip of a headache, she looked out the window at her expansive backyard. There wasn’t much to see except sparse grass, a few trees and lots of rocks.

Green remembered the giant redwood seedlings that she and her husband, Bruce, had bought in California. She’d potted them in buckets, and that’s where they stayed.

“I decided I didn’t want to sit here and think about my pain,” she said. So she went out to find a place to plant her trees.

Green had to use a crowbar to pry the rocks out of the unyielding soil. She had a lot of anger about the accident that left her with multiple health problems and short-term memory loss.

“Digging holes and hitting rocks became my anger management,” she said.

Once the redwoods were planted, she turned her attention to the rest of the yard. She began planting perennials in a circular pattern.

When she finished she realized, she’d unintentionally created a Medicine Wheel Garden.

“I believe this is divine guidance, not myself, because I don’t have this kind of knowledge,” Green said.

An arbor draped with trumpet vines stands in the middle of her wheel within a wheel. A cedar swing sways gently in its shade.

Green has placed several totems around the outer circle in tribute to her Native American inspiration.

As she worked from dawn to dusk, Green realized she didn’t feel as tired and her headaches decreased.

“Maybe I’m on a sacred mission,” she said.

Christian, Native American and Buddhist icons scattered throughout her garden symbolize balance

In the shade of a hazelnut tree Green created a place for meditation. A nearby sign reminds her to “look within.”

Green is from Thailand, and in homage to her ancestry she added a Buddhist shrine next to her meditation spot.

Her most recent project was a pathway that winds through the gardens.

“I wanted to prove to myself that what I put my mind to I could do,” she said. And so she painstakingly laid 550 bricks.

Fruit trees and small vegetable plots are scattered throughout the property. Purple asters and yellow pansies mingle with pink petunias and bright marigolds.

Soothing fragrances soften the air.

Green treats guests to tea on her covered patio.

“This garden has helped me to focus on something other than myself,” she said. “I had lost the balance in my life.”

She calls this healing place her Sacred Garden. Her headaches are now rare.

“Don’t say you can’t do anything,” she admonishes. “Yes, you can.”