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Trimble’s of Corchaug (credit: Felicia LaLomia)

Ok, so right away, before I even set eyes on this place, I was in love. I mean, the name — Trimble’s of Corchaug — is just about the coolest name ever. It’s what I imagine the herbology professor from Harry Potter would name her store if she had one. (I’d later learn it’s one of the owners’ last name and the name of the Native American tribe that once called this land home.)

Speaking of Professor Sprout, the grounds of Trimble’s looked like something inspired by her, too. When I pulled into the parking lot, everything was bursting with color. It’s like they took the words ‘cute’ and ‘quirky’ and personified them in the best way possible. Gray clouds and threatening wind as the backdrop only made everything stand out more.

As I got out of my car and started wandering around, a spell of peace blanketed the space. It was so quiet, except for the gentle sprinkling of the hoses that faded into white noise. When I walked into the greenhouse, shades of pink and green dotted the way as little knick knacks popped out at me. Young, spiky asparagus fern poked onto the path, begging for attention as large, leafy stalks and dainty flowers lined the upper levels.

Exiting the greenhouse led to more colors — rich blues and yellows painted the restroom (currently closed) that was decorated with vintage license plates and window planters filled with pretty pinks, reds and yellows. A few more steps forward and rows and rows and rows of green went on seemingly forever.

The pollinators were to the left, the butterfly plants and seaside and salt tolerant plants were to the right. To the back were the vines and climbing plants, Montauk daisies, and perennials. 

I kept following the u-shaped walk around the property and came upon rows of labeled pergolas. Vinca, Coleus, Fuchsia, Million Bells, Lantana — like the names of a king’s daughters. Strings of delicate purple petals popped out of clusters of tiny green leaves. Many of the leafy plants looked like they changed their mind about what color they wanted to be halfway between growing, starting a light green and transitioning into a deep maroon. Beautiful hydrangeas were about to burst open and show soft shades of blue and yellow. 

Up towards the front was a sign that showed a city’s name, distance and direction. Somehow in this space, it couldn’t fit any better. It added a layer of quirkiness. Another structure did not disappoint in color — dark blues, bright turquoise, deep lavender and a flashing retired stoplight framed the checkout area.

I ended my hour at Trimble’s in their little garden of surprises. A winding path twisted and turned. Around every turn was a new touch, a new detail. Greenery led the way, plush enough to be a pillow for tired eyes. Antique doors sat in garden beds, tempting me, as if opening them would lead you to a secret land. A tree stump that eroded away to look like a throne led to a tub converted into a bird bath. Cemented in the walkway were old bricks that read “Nassau” and golf balls that would probably never see the green again. Finally, the path spit me back out to the parking lot, as if to tell me it was time to go, time to leave Wonderland.