Echoes that Linger

I never knew Mrs. Thelma Dearing. She died years before we bought her house, but sometimes I imagine her spirit watching over as I putter about the garden. The gardens she planted were lost to neglect by the time I arrived, and at first I did not know she had been a gardener. I began to suspect it, however, when I found lovely plants buried under weeds and vines. My suspicions were confirmed one day at the local library when I flipped open a gardening book and found a dedication in her memory by the Cahaba Valley Garden Club. 

Later I discovered several hybrid columbine, delicate pink and white blossoms that instantly won my heart. I was sure the original ones had been planted by Mrs. Dearing. I transplanted them to an area in the front garden where they could freely multiply. They thrived, and I always think of Mrs. Dearing when new seedlings appear each spring.

March has been a beautiful month. I do love the pastels that bloom this time of year:Top: 'Zephirine Drouhin' rose; 'Red Delicious' apple blooms. Middle: 'Snow White ' azalea; 'George Lindley Taber' azalea. Bottom: Rosa mutabilis; Variegated Weigela.

Recent views around the front garden and patio show colorful Japanese maples and azaleas. The bright orange quince shrubs, bottom left photo, are another legacy from Mrs. Dearing, rescued and transplanted to their present location. Amazingly, they have been blooming since January. Last week's storms knocked most of the blooms down, but even now a few remain. Dogwoods also were gorgeous this year. The final photo is of the birdhouse in a dogwood tree by the patio:

Here are a couple of close-up views of the green threadleaf Japanese maple seen in the foreground of top photo above:

Lou gave me an old green ladder for Christmas. It once belonged to an artist, a gifted man who died tragically young. I never knew him, but like Mrs. Dearing, I sometimes think about him. The ladder makes a perfect plant stand by the patio:

Is it odd that my garden contains memories of people I never met? Not real memories but echoes that linger. And when I am gone, will there be any part of me that remains? Not a ghost, of course; but if it were, I promise it would be a friendly one!

The Garden Speaks in Colors

The garden speaks to us in colors — green, white, blue, yellow, and pink — and draws our emotions into itself. Traditionally, colors say something to us, and maybe that is why we respond so strongly to the arrival of spring. The garden is hushed in winter, but its voice sings out with the new season. 

Many shades of green push through gray branches and brown soil to announce rebirth and renewal. One can stand in the garden and feel the optimism of spring, the soothing reassurance that life endures.

This April view from the patio features the fresh green foliage of roses, weeping Japanese maple, and daylily.
Clockwise from top left: leaves of dogwood, cornus florida; variegated hydrangea, macrophylla Variegata; Japanese painted fern, Athyrium niponicum var. pictum; hosta 'Francis Williams'

The purity of spring impresses us, its newness untouched by disease or wear or damages of time. White shines in the garden, fresh and clean. In the garden I am young and my soul eternal.

The blossoms of Philadelphus coronarius, sweet mock orange or English dogwood, light up this area adjacent to the lady garden.Clockwise from top: Rosa rugosa var. alba; Viburnum macrocephalum; closer view of Philadelphus coronarius; Azalea, snow white

The garden speaks of peace, too, with images of blue. Cares are light in this place, and for a time they fly away and leave our hearts at rest.

The daffodils ars spent, but blue phlox divaricata still blooms in the front garden.Clockwise from top left: Mr. Bluebird stands guard at his home near the lady garden; Oregon grape, mahonia aquifolium; Hosta sieboldiana elegans; a lizard with a touch of blue lives in this planter on my patio.

All the golden hues of the garden, the yellows and oranges, represent energy, comfort and pure joy. Smile, for there is much to smile about in the garden.

For many years this lone tulip has returned each spring to the front garden. I am always happy to see it, for most tulips don't survive in my climate.
Clockwise from top left: Pansies are still blooming; golden oak pollen covers this yellow sedum; variegated leaves of Cherokee Red dogwood; foliage of caryopteris 'Jason'

And then there is pink, a color that speaks of friendship. Is a garden complete, if there is no one with which to share it? Come with me, my friend. Let us walk together and listen to what the garden has to say.This very old urn belonged to my parents. Behind it is dianthus 'Bath's Pink'.
Clockwise from top left: pink fringe-like flowers of lorapetalum; Azalea 'George Lindley Tabor'; unknown flower growing in the lady garden; Rosa mutabilis

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