Flower Power –

One needs only to deeply inhale the wondrously beautiful perfume of the Mock Orange blossom (now abloom in profusion) or take in the visual feast of a velvety Rose garden, to be assured that, whatever is going on in the world of humans, Nature can and does upstage us – skillfully, eloquently, and with such drama!

Flowers Of Late Summer --

It’s hard to believe that kids are back in school and summer is winding down. My black-eyed susans still seem at their peak; my purple iron weeds (scroll down and see picture of last year’s blooms) are again peeking in at me through the front and side windows; the phlox, echinacea, and orange lanterns are gem-like in their brilliance and clarity. A light sprinkling of early-fallen tree leaves dot the grass in my back yard. I guess I’m a flower of late summer. My birthday is September 1st.

Nature's Church

Last Friday, Dixie and I went to the greenway in back of my church for our walk. The scene changes, of course, with the seasons. Right now, there are acres and acres of coreopsis flowers -- a stretch of blazing gold color that is almost too beautiful to take in. That day, I promised myself I would bring my camera and walking shoes on Sunday and re-visit the flowers after church.

I did. As I walked and gazed and took pictures, a man and woman were approaching from the opposite direction, with their camera. We exchanged a greeting and when I told them how I'd promised myself to return after church with my camera, the man smiled and remarked "This is church". He was right. It was as spiritual as anything could possibly be -- glorious, magnificent!

Gramma's Garden

A couple of times lately, I’ve noticed the pretty peonies in full bloom a few blocks down the street from where I live. Those flowers take me back, as if it were yesterday, to what I will call Gramma’s Garden. Anyone who’s read my memoirs knows my paternal grandmother was a bright light in my childhood and I spent every moment I could with her. Gramma had a huge yard full of flowers, fruit trees, and berry bushes.

Of all those plants, the three peony bushes are most vivid in my mind. They were planted in a row, set apart from everything else. They were the garden highlights! One was white; one was rose pink; the third one was deep maroon. When I was a very young child, I would eagerly await the opening of their petals each Spring (once I had realized that it was at this time of year that they did appear and open). One year when I was about five or six years old, the day came when I found I could not wait for them to open. I’d looked at their buds for several days in a row. Each firm bud was round, with neatly and tightly folded petals ... petals that revealed a bit of their color. I remember manually trying to open many of the buds with my fingers, especially on the maroon bush, which was my favorite. It didn’t work and I remember my disappointment, followed by the fearful realization that I’d done something I shouldn’t have done. Later that week, Gramma went out to check her peony bushes, probably wondering why there were so few fully open flowers visible from her kitchen window! She went out and inspected them and then asked me if I knew anything about it. I confessed. She said something about the maroon peonies being the most expensive and hard color to find and I could see how sad she was, but then she let it go, because she knew how guilty I felt. I never went near the peonies again, but always admired them from a distance.

Of course, Grampa was the one who did most of the manual labor in the huge yard and mini farm. He did this evenings and weekends, because during the week, he worked a regular work day schedule as the manager of a big factory in New Haven. Nonetheless, I always thought of the vegetation as "Gramma’s Garden".

Indian Daisies --

That's what I call them ... I don't know why. They are "Tall or Giant Sunflowers" (helianthus giganteus) officially. I'll put a picture of them up for you to see. I have a group of them that I transplanted from my former residence (I got the originals from my friend, Janna ... see "Friends" post). They are the happiest-looking flowers -- perennials, and very, very tall!

Ironweeds ...

They are not weeds, folks ... they are exquisite wildflowers, found in parks, along some roadsides, on the edge of forests, occasionally in backyards, and in the gardens of herbalists and wildflower fanciers. They are the majestic crayola purple-flowered ironweeds, with flower clusters stuck on the ends of multi four to eight-foot sturdy stalks, bursting into bloom here in east Tennessee right now. Back in Connecticut (where I'm originally from), they flower in September and are often hit by frost before or while completing their cycle and going to seed. They are perennials, though, and will return season after season if not disturbed. It's not easy to get them to grow from seed and they need to be handled with care when being transplanted. Their tough stalks remain well into the next season and I break them off to use as tomato stakes in the Spring. I love these plants. My purple ironweed grows to a height of ten or more feet each year and waves at me through my music room window. I thought it would be nice to put its picture here to be enjoyed.