I wanted to explain an anology earlier.As I tidied the flotsam and jetsom of last years garden I likened it to a canvas.
When an artist paints the canvas is fitted to the board, stretched, and sits pristine.Waiting to be painted, full of colour, and life.
I have dug borders, a square, two rectangles, and the backyard one which is like a three sided shape following either the fence or house red bricks.
With all the summer bedding plants gone, and new compost laid down it looks bare.My imagination furnishes it out.
New seeds, new plants bought, repaired from transit,rearranged on the soil in eye pleasing patterns.Then holes dug, plants bedded down, and watered.
I envisioned.....
Busy lizzies, geraniums, rows of lavender, rosemary, fresh herbs in a wheel.A new rose garden with trellising at the back with climbers like ivy or nasturtium.
Who can resisit sunflowers?I have only managed to grow two.The hillside weather and slugs kill most of them before they can get strong.
My hostas are chilling beneath the soil waiting to spring back up for a third year.I read a swedish ladys garden blog and she talked about why we want to garden.
Darwinism/religeon were the two she mentioned, but then talked about her father and his rhodadendrums, and a nursery man who gave her her first plant.
I got the gardening bug from my mother i think.She loved to go outside after work and tidy the garden.We started sharing that interest when i was at uni.
I started an obscession with houseplants, and that grew to include gardens.I watched lots of TV, bought magasines, and helped tidy hers.Soon my green fingers worked wanders, and it was like i had always done it.
Maybe its genetic, my family on mums side were from rural gloucestershire.Farming country.I think the gardening genes were passed down.I get deja vu doing gardening jobs like digging, cutting grass then raking the dead grass and thatch.
The garden is my canvas.Through trial and error I will work out what best grows on a hillside garden with clay heavy soil.The plants, shrubs, and trees are my paints.The sky above my muse and witness.The photo and blog are an exploration of my art, good and bad.
There was an original garden in the bible beginning (The garden of Eden).People must have wanted to grow things for food first, then commerce, but then they wanted more aesthetic things.Flowers with bright colours, sweet scents on breezy summery days.
The artist orchestrates, arranges, mixes, and hopefully makes a masterpiece.But unlike old painting in national museums the garden has a limited life.Photos can capture that wander and magic, and hold it.
I got nostalgic looking at my fireworks of french marigolds, and orange tea roses.Busy lizzies with white stars on pink petals.
She also mentioned the idea that every year you plan for next years garden, but enjoy this years and that is very true.Keep on growing blogosphere!!!
