We are going to lose a beautiful heritage garden in our neighborhood. I can't tell you where it is right now, but we will be sad to see it go. Gardens like this contain years of stories, memories, and a great deal of mystery. No one really knows what goes on in the mind's eye of the gardener. What songs did she hear in her inner ear when she planted the roses 40 or 50 years ago? What conversations did she have with herself over the years of raising her family? How did the garden twine itself around her heart? How did its sensuous appeal affect her spirit? Does her spirit return to the garden to relish in all her work and care?
She had a passion for roses.
There are flowers I just never noticed before now, like the irises below.
Her columbines bloomed on the summer solstice.
If you look closely, there are unexpected delights, like this lone dianthus blossom.
She also reveled in big and showy blooms.
I hope to take many pictures of the garden this summer. We will collect some of the memories and stories of its creator and share them with you in the fall.
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