Whispers of Revolution in Oysterville?

Apr 11, 2016 | 1 comment

Bright Spots

Bright Spots

It’s difficult to tell whether the garden is in revolt or is working toward some sort of colorful solidarity.  Thus far into our spring season, it looks like it could go either way.

Day lilies, so crowded they have no chance of blossoming forth, are cheek-by-jowl (or is it leaf-by-frond?) with the gazillion sword ferns near the old spruce stump.  A huge no-name rhododendron is trying its best to disguise the bottom branches of two holly trees that appear to be dying.  Then there’s camellia in our east garden is still putting out buds after three months of steady blooming.  It doesn’t seem organized out there.  Not yet, anyway.

Nyel and the Woodpile

Nyel and the Woodpile

And the lilacs!  Oh the marvelous, sweet smelling lilacs!  When I get too upset with all that needs doing, I just treat myself to a whiff of those old-fashioned blooms, just now coming on strong.  That’s all it takes to bring back memories of sucking nasturtium nectar and hunting four leaf clovers and trying to hold my thumbs just right so I could whistle through a blade of grass.  You know… back when gardens were a place to play, not work.

Fortunately, Nyel is not so easily distracted from the garden chores.  He is working on the woodpile or, more specifically, on cleaning up the area of around our old gazebo.  Yesterday he clipped and pruned and raked and hauled.  In the process he exposed areas of the garden that hadn’t seen the light of day for a half dozen or more years.  I am reminded of The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett: And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.  But I’m also reminded of how hard little Mary Lovett and her friend Colin Craven worked to transform their tangled garden into a place of magic.

Garden Helper

Garden Helper

You’d think that the bright spots of color and fragrance would prompt me to get my bones out there and join forces with Nyel… you’d think.  But as much as I love to look and sniff and admire, I seem to lack those qualities of perseverance and industriousness when it comes to hard work and the out-of-doors.

Maybe today is the day, though.  The apple trees and azaleas and even the Oriental poppies are in full bloom and I can hear them calling me. They are persistent:  “Come out and dig.”  “How about a little plant food?”  “Get this invasive bindweed off me!”  And I know they are right.  I definitely need to help in their spring uprising if the summer’s transformation is to be successful.  Yep!  Maybe today…

1 Comment

  1. Caroline Miller

    I sucked honeysuckle nectar. Takes me back. Give in to irrational abundance and have a cup of tea.

    Reply

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