Welcome back. When the garden is in bloom, it is time to share.
|Up close, the yellow of the rose Julia Child is rich like fine Irish butter|
The roses, iris and and geraniums were pruned from my garden this morning. I sometimes buy milk in glass bottles- you really can't purchase a more charming vase for less. The only thing better than how the duo looked on the counter were the smiles on the housekeepers' faces when they left, each with their own.
Yes, I own a color wheel. But truth be known, it gets spun more than referenced):- I don't garden for any intellectual purpose at all. I garden for the glorious hallelujah chorus of birds and bloom. For exhilaration and exoneration. All mistakes are forgiven for they become the compost on which future success grows.
I write with a prayer that this obsession in contagious.
I confess: when it comes to African Violets, I am a mass murderer. If they unionized, they could refuse to be condemned via my shopping cart.
However, over the years I have amassed a small collection of cache pots and a bit of moss left over from other projects- for $1.99 at Trader Joe's- the table has a centerpiece and the compost pile a future component. A win-win for everyone. Except maybe the African violet);-
I used to be afraid of the bees buzzing over the lavender. Now I live for those moments when they let me into "their" space to take a picture.
The Roots of My Obsession came home with me from Portland. I read the 30 essays edited by Thomas Cooper like a daily devotional. One very personal essay a day, I came away thinking the world is a better place for it is full of gardeners.
|Photo by Gene Sasse|
Pacific Horticulture is featuring a story I am thrilled to share Actively Engaged- The Purpose Driven Garden.