#i have a tulip background for spring and then green leaves for summer and red/orange leaves for fall

[alfea]

feeling fancy today :)

[thechampagnecircus]

Floral Gardens Majesty

For someone who loves plants, I have the furthest thing from a green thumb.  My thumb may be green with envy of those that do possess this gene.  The most frustrating part about that is my Grammy on my Mum’s side and my Grandpa on my Dad’s side, were wonderful gardeners. The heritage was strong and yet here we are.

My Grammy had a small vegetable garden and multiple flower beds.  Joining her among the fresh squash and lustrous blooms in the spring and summer are some of my fondest memories of her.  I would help pick Potato Bugs to keep them from chewing leaves.  She always thought I had a knack for it. “Carly dear, your eyes are as sharp as a tack!” she would say.  I would smile with pride for every beetle I peeled away from its leafy lunch. 

My parents too have a love for greenery.  Growing up there were thriving plants sprinkled throughout the house.  Peace Lilies and a wonderfully abundant Hibiscus that blooms every year. There were spider plants, and a gorgeous Lilac bush on the side of the house, who’s spring aroma is unparalleled.  I remember when it was just a sapling. Over decades, it has turned into a proud bush of purple petals rife with intoxicating perfume.  To this day, the scent of Lilacs takes me to sweet Maine summers, cicadas buzzing and the Poplar trees whistling with warm breeze. 

I have tried over the years to maintain outdoor and indoor plants, all resulting in disappointments. Those poor forsaken seedlings.  The worst was when I had the audacity to think  I could grow my own herb garden from scratch.  In my own defense, I gave my best efforts.  I nurtured them, I really did. They were starting to sprout, until I forgot them outside in a feverish thunderstorm, which left them obliterated.  They were far too fragile to prevail.  It scarred me for a while, and kept any botanical urges I had at bay. Our flower beds at our current home are left over-run with whatever the previous homeowner had abandoned.  It greens up with a few perennials here and there.  I am pretty sure a lot of them are technically weeds at this point. I have, however, mastered the art of the potted plant. They last one season, and are replaced each year. Here is where my skill set resides.  I make sure to water them, and other than some occasional pruning, they are relatively low maintenance.  We just got ours up for the year and what a difference they make.  It is a floral accent that makes any space feel more welcoming.

It is, however, a far cry from the gardens of my childhood.  Those were lush mobs of radiant flowers.  Daisies, modest yet elegant, proudly staking their spot. Tiger Lilies, bold and loud with a commanding presence. The bulbous peonies, fluffy and swirling with ants. Prim roses of delicate hues of pink and cream. Tulips, mostly red but speckled with an orange tint here and there.  Daffodils, their noble trumpets pointed at the sky as if to bellow a springtime symphony. The Lily of the Valley that grew at the rock wall, tiny white droplets resembling church bells. There was a lofty cluster of marigolds under the honey sap tree that seemed to get larger and larger each year as if on a campaign to be ruler of the gardens.

I also adored the wildflowers of New England that paint the landscape with infinite colors and majesty. These, of course, take no skill but are a natural wonder.  Black Eyed Susans and Queen Anne’s Lace were my favorite.  With the exception of the elusive Mayflowers.  I always thought it funny that the best time for Mayflowers was in April.  And the obligatory jingle of a riddle that would follow with any mention of them, "April showers bring Mayflowers, but what do Mayflowers bring?" “Pilgrims!" someone would always reply with zeal. All these childhood flowers  hummed with the flurry of Bumble Bees gathering pollen and evoked the sweet cheerfulness of summer.  

I could regale many a memory amongst these flowers, but now I have my own understated version of a thriving Eden.  There is love here, in our South facing backyard.  Cast iron dining table ready for guests and two loungers perfect for reading in the hot Calgary sun. A large grill, with many a delicious meal under its belt.  A string of lantern style lights lines the overhang ready for when the sun goes behind the shield of dusk. There is a distant moan of the highway in the background, a white noise that sets the stage for the song of local birds, the chirping of curious squirrels and the buzzing of spastic insects. I will never be able to match the beautiful flowers from my past, but I appreciate my simple piece of heaven that my family and I call home.

Copyright © 2021 Carly Eddy.