This lawn furniture looks so inviting. I envisioned quiet lunches and slow morning coffee. Then, as I started to do more summer community art projects, the lawn furniture became a ghostly presence. It is there patiently waiting for us. We may yet have one of those quiet moments with friends that I dreamed of when I created the garden.
The peonies in my garden are not those huge new hybrids but the smaller old fashioned ones. This one came with our old house and I am curious when it was originally planted. Our former home was built in 1927 so it’s not inconceivable that this flower was put in the ground then. It lived and bloomed through WW2 and still graces my garden looking fresh, new and in endlessly good spirits.
Flowers almost glow in the evening light. It happens just before the sun sets and the garden dissolve into grey. I wonder if it’s an illusion or if there is a good scientific explanation. Whatever it is, it’s one more bit of mystery behind colour perception.
This path reminds of bedtime readings of the Secret Garden to my daughters. I used to imagine what the garden looked like – perhaps even dreamed about it. When we bought our house, I must have unconsciously created the secret garden of my imagination. Now it’s a private refuge, a place that’s always calm and uplifting no matter what else is going on in the world .
My mom’s friend Christine Clark passed away several weeks ago. She was one of the most generous people I have ever met. When my mom developed Alzheimer’s, and when pretty well everyone in her life disappeared, Christine came to visit for a month. Paradoxically, she had every reason to be a bitter old woman. After two very hard marriages and a childhood spent in a Nazi camp for children where she was severely abused by the nuns, you would think that she would be a bit angry. Instead, she enjoyed every trivial thing, including this bridal wreath bush that blooms extravagantly and profusely in front of our house.
This veronica gentian came to my garden by accident. I know most plant names and saw this unfamiliar and inconspicuous little thing on a fall sale shelf in Home Depot. Now it lines our driveway and dances with every breeze like a troupe of ballerinas. It’s a true to life ugly duckling story.
Shirley was once my mom’s neighbour. Her garden was covered with irises that grew over the tarp she laid down. This spiky lawn turned purple in the spring. Shirley allowed me to pull out a few tubers that seemed to grown on nothing but air – they peeled off easily as they were barely attached to the tarp. These few hardy plants now blanket the south of my house. I offer them to friends and hope that purple fields begin to sprout up around many Edmonton homes.