“That old lady in Oysterville…”
In the great scheme of things, or at least in the world of tourism on the Peninsula, I am thankful that seven ayem is pretty early in the day. There usually isn’t much activity over at the church or in the road in front of our house. At least, I hope not.
The rhododendrons along most of the south, east and west garden borders are now so large that I am unaware of folks who might be walking along the lane toward the bay or stopping along their way to take pictures. And so it is that I am often out walking the garden perimeter and having a righteous conversation with my beautiful co-residents, happily under the illusion that no one but the flowers can hear me!
This morning I apologized profusely to the camellias for neglecting them a few weeks back, somehow forgetting to spray them with Deer and Rabbit Fence, the surest protection I know of against our voracious local ungulates. Sadly, therefore, from knees to bellies (theirs) they have been chomped and chewed to an unsightly, extremely un-camellia-like display of shorn leaves. “I’m so sorry!” I said over and over. “But you’re doing a great job at recovery! You’ll soon look good as new!”
And then there are the lilacs — back again for the umpty-umpth year and nearby their “babies” that Nyel had dug up and planted hither and thither beginning to bloom for the first time! “How I wish Nyel could see you,” I said. “He would be so proud of you!”
Then there are the overwhelming Mrs. G.W. Leaks who must be over thirty feet tall now: “OMG, Mrs. Leak! You have outdone yourselves this year! You are beyond gorgeous! Thank you so much!”
And on I went… It wasn’t until well after I came indoors that I wondered if there were listeners — perhaps dog-walkers and their four-legged companionswondering who the old nit-wit is that wanders the garden praising and scolding and carrying on, apparently all by herself. Oh well! I know the flowers love our morning conversations — they show me their appreciation every single day! Bless them for making the world seem so simple — at least within my garden fence.