Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? This nursery rhyme was part of my childhood. I remember as a very young child, walking through our garden in the summer evenings with my Dad when he returned home from work. In my memory, I was fresh from a bath, with damp hair down my back, my little hand in his great big grownup one.
I’ve carried that love of gardening into my own grownup life. One of the great joys of working from home has been watching my garden come to life this spring. From the very beginnings of bright, white snowdrops to veined purple crocuses back in March, I’ve made sure to spend at least a few minutes every day taking in what is new.
From those earliest of spring beauties, we’ve moved through the haze of blue Chionodoxa in my tiny front lawn and on to purple Pasque Flowers, whose now-emerging seed heads remind me a little bit of the spiky flower Horton the elephant holds in his trunk in Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who.
Sunny daffodils were next, followed by beautiful blush-coloured tulips, which always make me smile. Soon enough, the woodland wonders showed themselves during my walks, with real Spring Beauties, Trout Lily and finally crisp Trilliums to make us Ontarians puff up like the returning Red Wing Blackbirds, showing off for their mates.
Sprawling Periwinkle joined in the colour parade as neighbourhood flowering shrubs and trees burst into bloom, lighting up the neighbourhood daytime the same way many twinkling lights do in the evening hours.
The pendulant pink flowers of my Bleeding Heart were next, and by tomorrow, the first of the Alliums may have burst out of their fragile coverings, to say hello to the Columbine blooms who greeted me this morning.
Audrey Hepburn is famously quoted as saying, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.”
I’ve always loved puttering in the garden. Feeling the warm dirt on my hands (rarely gardening gloves for me!) There is great joy in seeing perennials return year after year. Sometimes they get moved around the garden, finding new homes that suit them better. As they grow and need dividing, gardens can grow in size, and plants can be shared and exchanged with others.
Occasionally, the gifted plants need a stern hand. My parents once gave me something which came to be known as “that damn purple plant”, because it required pulling out by the handful every year!
I’ve spent many years trying to get colour in my gardens throughout the entire season. Once the spring flowers are over, the pinks of Coral Bells and Wind Flowers, the yellows of Black Eyed Susans and the purples of Echinacea will take their places along with all the various greens and whites of Hostas, and eventually the fall colours of Sedum and Chrysanthemums.
It’s a work in progress, but as Ms. Hepburn said, the hope of tomorrow keeps me at it. So I’ll spend many evenings walking through the garden, glass of wine in hand, dreaming of new plants to add, new homes for the current ones, and thinking of how my garden will grow.
Like your new format but isn’t it act2 scene2
Just a facelift 😉