Posted in 2017

Gardenia

Almost anyone, well almost anyone who had a Southern grandmother, will find their air suffused with lush gardenia fragrance simply by looking at this photo. What made me think to buy a bush and plant it out by the little covered swimming pool? More to the point, why had I never done it before? Why did it feel like a small luxury I had denied myself all these years? Is there a forgotten memory in there somewhere? The cut bloom has been in my study for almost a week, only this morning beginning look jaundiced. Never mind. It has performed its miracle. My hard-packed spirit friable again, like newly turned compost, and ready to venture forth in the cool of morning, pen and notepad in pocket, camera around neck, spade in one hand, seedling in the other.

Posted in 2017

An Old Seed Sprouts

I was already a late-blooming gardener twenty years ago at age 45 when I made my first and only gardening journal. I used a blank scrapbook, the kind with large construction paper pages, and crayons scavenged from the toy box I kept for my step-grandkids at the house. The first page clearly demonstrates I’m no artist, either, but when I opened this old book of plant hopes and dreams last night for the first time in years, my heart was moved to begin this digital garden journal.