Garden, Get Thee Stuffed
It's as though we abhore a vacuum. He in the house, so that every nook and cranny disappears under the weight of furniture, porcelains, statues; the walls weighted with one painting over another, under another. He is the aesthetic eye, voice and ear of this family, and I the curatorial s
taff. Cleaning staff? And then there's our gardens. I simply will not permit spaces to exist in our gardens. Banishing them with unremitting installations of trees, bushes, shrubs, perennials, annuals. He becomes the garden staff, eliminating creepy-crawlies that enjoy nothing better than to gnaw holes in rosebuds and helpless plants of one type or another, particularly lilies. He does a fine job of it, protesting all the while that it goes against the grain to take away the life of a caterpillar, a worm (and ugh to you, too).Yes! Our perennials are thriving, aided immensely by the advent of a very wet spring, hot and humid weather and plenty of sun. Perennials? Did I forget the growth spurts of all the trees, deciduous and conifers alike? Clematis, roses, irises, Canterbury bells, peonies, poppies, lupines, they're blooming and proliferating as never before. I've carefully strung up the sweet peas, the nasturtiums and the morning glories, the black-eyed Susan vines, and their aspiring bloom time will yet come.
The garden pots, those great huge ceramic and stone urns and receptacles to embrace miniature gardens, have been filled. With tuberous begonias, million bells, nemisia, porculaca, ipomea, ivies, grasses, dahlias, bidens, lobelia, and much more, guaranteed to brighten the landscape and lighten the heart. I've plunked down zinnias, wax begonias, impatiens, cosmos, asters, snapdragons wherever so much as a space insinuated it could get along without colourful ornamentation.
We've already got little tomatoes hanging down off the tomato vine, and more, much more to come. I'm now able to snip fresh parsley for our soup and salad, chives for same, and sweet basil and oregano to brighten our taste buds in salads and home-made pizzas. And there's more, much more to come. It's only the third week of June, for heaven's sake! Summer is yet before us, a long, glorious summer.
Nothing quite like a turn in the garden, to note what's happening, to feel the sun on one's back, to snip off spent flowers, stake up storm-fallen stems, then sit back and delight in the architecture and colour of a canvass of our own.
posted by Pieface @ Wednesday, June 21, 2006
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