The Rain: A Silver Lining

"Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
We want to go outside and play
Come again some other day".

Yes, it continues to rain at 514. Today I am focusing on the silver linings rain has provided in my gardens.  There is much to appreciate around my place because of the rain.

We got to enjoy a double rainbow.

The tulips are lasting longer.

The columbine's color is more vivid.

The lily garden is exploding.

Bouquets are lasting longer.

The lilacs are also lasting longer. 

 “Colors shone with exceptional clarity in the rain. The ground was a deep black, the pine branches a brilliant green, the people wrapped in yellow looking like special spirits that were allowed to wander over the earth on rainy mornings only.” – Haruki Murakami

 

Ten Things To Do When You Can't Garden

Where I live we have had a cold, wet spring. Don't get me wrong. I know we need the rain, but when the temperatures are cooler, it is hard to plant a garden. I realize I could bundle up, wear a rain poncho, and go out and pull weeds, plant containers, and put out my garden décor. I don't want to. I only last a short time outside when I get wet and cold. I have found some other ways to use my time.

Ten Things To Do When You Can't Garden:

1. Go shopping for plants. Eventually it will warm up, right?

2. Start trays of plants from seed. They will get to be planted someday.

3. Fill up the bird feeders.

4. Go to another store shopping for plants. You hate to have them sell out the first day it is warm again.

5. Arrange bouquets with my spring flowers.

6. Cuddle with Riley, drink coffee, and read a good book.

7. Reorganize the She Shed and deadhead the plants that wintered over

8. Plant flowers in the containers in the garage and hope there is enough sun to keep the leaves green.

9, Go to one more store and buy plants. Do you see a pattern here?

10. Take Riley outside and have him do a Sunshine Dance.

The Silver Lining in the Snow

 

Signs of spring have been emerging in my flower beds for weeks. I have already made a bouquet with the small mini daffodils. They are the flowers that bloom first whether it is cold or warm, sunny or snowy. Above is what I brought in today to keep them out of the snow. 

The grape hyacinths spread all year and when spring arrives the bright purple blooms pop up all over the front flower beds and the raised beds in the backyard. They aren't picky about the weather.

The earlies tulips bloomed a few days ago. When snow began to to fall yesterday,and then again today I went out and picked the tulips to make sure they would survive. 

The weeds I needed to pull are back under the snow. The freezing temperatures are allowing me to stay inside and finish some projects not completed during the winter. I can now build a fire again in the fireplace. 

All silver linings. Yes, I wish it was warmer. Yes, I wish I could dig in the dirt. It is okay. I still have bouquets, I have color popping out from the snow. I have a nice fire burning in the house. 

Now Riley is having a hard time finding silver linings. He is tired of getting snowed on and coming home wet. He wants to run in the sunshine.

Grayson is tired of it also. We had a long talk tonight and I tired to explain unpredictable spring weather. He was very puzzled. I guess I have to admit I am a bit puzzled also.

 This poem inspired me today to revisit my photos of tulips. By the volume of photos I have saved of  tulips, it is easy to guess it is one of my favorite spring flowers. 

Tulips

BY A. E. STALLINGS

The tulips make me want to paint,

Something about the way they drop

Their petals on the tabletop

And do not wilt so much as faint,

Something about their burnt-out hearts.

Something about their pallid stems

Wearing decay like diadems,

Parading finishes like starts,

Something about the way they twist

As if to catch the last applause,

And drink the moment through long straws,

And how, tomorrow, they’ll be missed.

The way they’re somehow getting clearer,

The tulips make me want to see—

The tulips make the other me

(The backwards one who’s in the mirror,

The one who can’t tell left from right),

Glance now over the wrong shoulder

To watch them get a little older

And give themselves up to the light.

Source: Poetry (June 2009).

Flower Gardening: Giving Up Control

In planning  flower gardens I  think about what perennials will grow the best, what is the best location to plant them, is there unique foliage, and how do textures work together. Often color is the last thing I think about. From the first blooming bulbs in the spring until the last standing mums in the fall my gardens take on different color arrangements depending on the plant, season, and weather.

In spring this year I was surrounded by lots of yellow, purple, and orange. I have tried to select a variety of colors of spring bulbs, even though red and yellow always announce spring brightly.

The next cycle of spring includes more purple and pink. I think every iris I own has turned to purple. They are pretty, but I do like some variety. Somehow the strongest surviving roses have been pink and trees bloom in pink. Columbines are now mostly purple.  Of course the lilacs border one large flower bed with different shades of purple.This creates an English cottage garden look that I like.

Right now the gardens are showing off in white. Once I tried to have just a white garden. I think they look cool and peaceful. That was early in my gardening career so the place was not good that I chose. Many of the plants are spread around now. I did have fun last night just photographing just white flowers.

 I use more planning when purchasing annuals for pots and planters around the gardens. This is where I can mix it up a bit. Some years I want a whole theme... like purple and orange or blues and whites. I did quite a mix this year, but tried to grow as many red flowers as I could for an upcoming family wedding.

A few years ago I let go of the idea that I could control what happens in my gardens. I can't.  I can give plants what they need to grow and bloom, but that is it. Sometimes that doesn't even work. That is the beauty of gardening. Plants change colors, some die while stronger ones emerge, and some disappear only to return a few years later. It is a mixed up mess, but I love it.

National Poetry Month #9 : Favoring Billy Collins

Billy Collins came through today and provided a priceless poem to describe one of those rare, perfect spring days. 

Today  

by Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw

open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,

indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths

and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants

from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.

Source: Poetry (April 2000). 

National Poetry Month #7: Stay Gold

This isn't the name of the poem by Robert Frost, but it is the phrase that always resonated with me when I read this poem because of the characters in the novel "The Outsiders". As I walked through tulip and daffodil fields today in the Skagit Valley of Washington state one line that kept coming back to me was "Stay gold Ponyboy.. stay gold."

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay. 

Robert Frost

National Poetry Month #3: Tulips

As I prepare this evening for a spring break trip to the Skagit Valley of Washington state I am thinking of tulips. This is a perfect selection for this evening.

Tulips

BY A. E. STALLINGS

The tulips make me want to paint,

Something about the way they drop

Their petals on the tabletop

And do not wilt so much as faint,

Something about their burnt-out hearts,

Something about their pallid stems

Wearing decay like diadems,

Parading finishes like starts,

Something about the way they twist

As if to catch the last applause,

And drink the moment through long straws,

And how, tomorrow, they’ll be missed.

The way they’re somehow getting clearer,

The tulips make me want to see—

The tulips make the other me

(The backwards one who’s in the mirror,

The one who can’t tell left from right),

Glance now over the wrong shoulder

To watch them get a little older

And give themselves up to the light.

Source: Poetry (June 2009).

Spring and Imperfect Gardens

“But aren't many gardens beautiful because they are imperfect?...aren't the strange, new flowers that arise by mistake or misadventure as pleasing as the well-tended and planned?”― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

I used to have this theory that my gardens weren't beautiful unless they looked perfect. Now I don't like formal gardens with manicured  hedges like in The Shining. I am all for the casual English garden style, but if there were weeds, empty spots, tall grass, or plants not doing well, I felt like a failure.

Because of that I never liked spring. Spring was always a struggle. Spring was a challenge. Spring was messy. There were plants that you didn't know whether to let thrive or pull because they might be weeds. One day there are lovely tulips one day, the next day dead plants.  Nothing seemed right in the gardens at Martin Creek. 

When I post pictures of my gardens I only show the good. I do not show the bad where sections of the gardens are full of weeds or overgrown grass. I surely don't show the ugly either  which are spots with things that I don't recognize. I call them the mystery gardens.

I am letting go. I am embracing anything that comes to life in spring. I am enjoying the tiny plants that may be flowers in a month. I am leaving dead tulip leaves to put food back into their bulbs. I am letting unwanted grass grow... at least a bit until I have the strength to pull it. 

I am finally finding a unique beauty in spring and my imperfect gardens.

Tulips

I love Mark Halperin's poem about tulips.

Tulips

May our failed hopes rise like tulips

Out of the cold ground,

And, when we look around,

There our satin bowls are, chocolates,

And swaying, velvety clarets, aglow

With memories of help we thought would

Appear and beliefs we watered.

And we do have something to show,

goblet-like reminders of our stubborn

labors – or we don’t, and refuse

odorless flowers and choose

to live without consolation.

Mark Halperin

First published in River Styx, issue 61, 2001