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Posts Tagged ‘garden’

There is a blue jay that likes to sit upon the porch and pound peanuts into any bare earth it can find in one of my pots, most often the pot of marigolds. A dove will occasionally land and then fly away, a fleeting guest, not like the mating pair that tried to nest on the porch during the pandemic. Now that I’ve added some pots of long willowy grass, lemongrass and zebra, sparrows will do a curiosity flyby but have not yet landed that I’ve seen.

I’m tempted to put out a water feature but that might attract more than birds. I am quite pleased with the porch this year. It was garden therapy i thought for Steve but it has surely been for me as well. I tell people I think I have reached capacity in terms of adding more containers but even as I look out the door now I can imagine one or two more containers just ‘cause. It is primarily a culinary space with many pots of basil, mint, lavender, thyme, rosemary and oregano. I added the lemongrass for height and texture though I know it is used in cooking as well.

I keep telling Steve the violas are edible but that’s a lost argument. Most attractive to me at the moment is the lavender. I’m sure for Steve it is the basil which he just pinched yesterday and we made a small batch of pesto for dinner.

I think of it as a mini-healing garden. I learned of the concept on my journey with Steve these past few years, sitting with him or by myself, in the rooftop gardens of different hospitals. Due to recent mobility challenges Steve had not been able to sit out there though he helped plant many of the containers. I call those Saturday mornings at the kitchen table surrounded by dirt our indoor gardening time. He pots the plants and I position them on the porch. He could only look out but of late we’ve learned of these things called suitcase ramps and voila he is able to sit in our little garden.

He doesn’t crave it the way that I do. We’ve discussed the fact that, in Virginia, I grew up in a porch culture and he most certainly did not. When he does sit out there I hope there is some benefit to mind and body. It is mid-July and the violas are fading. New opportunities await for filling some containers.

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I’ve been admiring the morning glories in my landlord’s garden for a while now.  Amazing how those vines progress across the yard and how the colors of the flowers morph over time.

Not sure why but today I felt compelled to slip into the garden with a pair of scissors.

Stealthy though I felt, the landlord doesn’t mind anyone cutting a bloom or two.

I may have cut a few more than that.

Handling the blooms, photographing them … it was a nice way to start the day.  Hope you have a good day too. 😉

 

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Last night I stood in the kitchen, trimming the sage, snipping dead thyme and bundling dry lavender branches.  It kept my hands busy as I talked with a friend.  In the end I tossed the litter haphazard on a white piece of paper that just happened to be on the table.  In the morning I rose, drank my coffee and prepared to sketch out my day.  And then of course I glanced at the paper, at the textures and colors, the shadows in transit… what could I do but run to get my camera?   A few more leaves crushed, petals pulled from various nooks, colored paper unfolded, an old bird’s nest found …  and somehow my morning became special.

 

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… and sunflowers …

… and new angles of our friend, the bee. 😉

Photos by Lorraine

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Isabel is my landlady.  In her garden there are flowers and vegetables and herbs of all sorts and whimsical little touches for her daughter like little white birds.  And there is Oswald.  Oswald is a rat.  When I’ve stood in the garden, I’ve seen him dash by behind me.  And when I sit upstairs in the kitchen window, I see him nibbling on plump leaves below.  He’s a city rat, big, brown and long-tailed and whiskered.  His coat is streaked with gray.  Perhaps he’s old and has lived in the garden a long time.  It is a very nice garden.

I’ll be honest.  I do not have a fondness for rats.  But I do love nature.  Oswald is a part of the garden’s ecosystem.  So, when I see him and my heart hammers and I just want him GONE, I try to think of rats I’ve liked in literature, like those in Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.  Then there’s that pot bellied rat in Charlotte’s Web.  I’m sure there are others.  In any case … I’m hoping we can find a way to live together.

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My indoor garden sits on a glass-topped table.  I don’t think I have much of a green thumb, but these little plants have done well so far this winter.

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