Twenty years ago when we first began creating our gardens in front and back of our newly-acquired home, we planted quite a few Alberta Spruce trees. These are small, pyramidal-shaped, thickly-needled ornamental trees, and we really thought they were excellent to offer architectural balance to various parts of our gardens. This year, my husband had to remove two of those much-valued trees.

They had overgrown the space they were in, which wasn't so bad, but they also weren't looking very good. Their needled branches had become sparse, some had died back quite a bit, and one of the trees actually looked headed on its way to extinction. So two of those prized trees were taken down. And for small trees, which they still were in height if not in pyramidal girth, they had taken up quite a bit of space. One of them had been growing in a long, narrow rock garden on a slope beside the house. The other had been planted in front of the house, under and beside a large pine tree.

The space made free in the rock garden has been planted variously with small clumps of divided hostas (plantain lily), one of our favourite garden plants, along with portulaca, marigolds and petunias, for it is a sunny spot. A few of our begonia bulbs were planted there, as well, between the stepping-stones. And it looks just fine; a few birds' nest spruce remain there.

Under the pine at the front of the house there remained a significant space, and we thought why not place something interesting there aside from growing things? We thought about going back to a place located at the far west of the city where we'd last gone about a decade ago, and where we'd bought a number of Greek-inspired statuary as well as classical pedestals and capitals and urns, which grace various parts of our gardens.

After our daily walk in the ravine located close to our street, we drove over to see what was on offer at the place we hadn't visited for so long. We'd tried calling but voice mail simply urged that a message be left. We decided to risk the drive, and discovered when we arrived where we recalled it to have been located that it was no longer there. We were disappointed, but that's how it goes, sometimes.

The area had been semi-rural, and it has, in the decade, been entirely transformed. Houses, schools, shopping centres have all taken the place of the countrified look that we recalled. The city has spread itself immeasurably. We did discover a purpose-built, huge barn of a place advertising itself as an antique barn. Entering out of curiosity we were pleased to discover that someone discerning enough to recognize what constitutes an antique had set up in business -- also selling quality reproductions. Not that we need any.

We've decided to move a birdbath that we'd bought at that same place long ago, from its current place to the newly-opened space under the pine, and that will suit us just fine.