Pondering Hope in Everyday Moments
My potted roses are almost ready to bloom. In addition to the red roses, the pink, rose, gold, and coral-colored roses (not pictured) are also ready to pop. Most of them will bloom all summer, but they will never again be as beautiful as they will be in April.
I can’t wait.
“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” (Audrey Hepburn)
Outside in the courtyard, my vinca (periwinkle) displays a strange mix of tired old leaves left over from last season along with some tender new shoots that promise a lovely spring. I need to take cuttings and stick them into some dirt. That’s all they need – that, and a little water. Vinca simply wants to grow.
What would we do without the promise of spring?
A couple of weeks ago, a neighbor told me about the bats that were hanging from her stucco walls and leaving their droppings on her porch every night. I was thinking how lucky I was not to have this pesky problem. Imagine my dismay when I discovered bat droppings under the vitex tree in the courtyard a week later. And the next day, and the next…
I didn’t want to poison them. (A bat’s got to live, after all.) The general consensus among my neighbors was to add light to the area, so I ordered some hanging solar lights.
Now my courtyard looks like Christmas, and there are no more droppings. Thank you, my strange, winged friends, for bringing some holiday cheer a little early.
I must admit, though – the little darlings are much more charming in their absence.
It’s late summer when much of the garden is looking dusty and a little brown around the edges, but the plumbago is still flowering. The tall sedums are coming into bloom, and the roses are still providing color. In every season, I manage to have something blooming in the courtyard. Later in the fall, I will pot up multi-colored violas, because they will survive an occasional crusting of snow and ice in winter.
I need flowers. They are essential for my well-being. When I was working outside of the home, I usually bought an inexpensive bunch of flowers for my desk on Mondays. They kept me going throughout the week. No matter how stressful or tedious my job became, just gazing at a bouquet of blue irises made everything better.
The beauty of a tender blossom is delicate and fleeting, but I can deal with the grief of its passing as long as there are more buds on the way.
Flowers remind me that Life is never exhausted.
It’s late afternoon in the garden, and it’s November. The coral-colored blossoms on the yucca have turned into dry stalks (pictured above right). But there’s something about a hidden garden that’s always intriguing, even to its owners.
The shady side of the garden is my favorite spot, especially in the heat of summer.
But the sunny side has its appeal as well, even in November when most of the blossoms have gone. The potted olive tree on the left is only two years old. This year it produced some ripe olives. (Yes, Gentle Reader, I did taste one off the tree. Big mistake.)
If you look closely through the branches of the olive tree, you will see an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe gazing down upon it all.
This is Mary’s Garden.
I finally put up some outdoor Christmas lights. Of course, there had to be some blue lights, because our courtyard is Mary’s Garden.
And then there are the indoor gardens. My little lighted trees have appeared in various parts of the house.
I’m ready for Christmas.
Out in the courtyard, the first, unexpected blossom has appeared. And the violets are in bloom!
Most people who live in Southern New Mexico say that October is their favorite month. Blue skies, moderate temperatures, and almost no wind work together to bestow one beautiful day after another. I have begun adding violas to the pots of annuals that will die after the first hard frost. The violas should survive the winter. Even if we are lucky enough to get some snow, they will keep blooming.
The berries on my holly tree have turned orange. My summer watering paid off this year, so I didn’t lose the green berries during the hot weather as I did the previous year. Soon the berries will turn fiery red and remain on the branches until next spring.
In December and January it will be too cold to sit out in the courtyard. The lantanas and other deciduous plants will be dormant, but the color of the viola blossoms and holly berries will still cheer me when I look out from my library window or hurry through the courtyard with Emerson the Dog on the way to our morning walk.
Although not much is blooming at the moment, the shady side of the courtyard is looking rather nice.
The sunny side, where we recently created a new border, is looking bare. (See below.) The blossoms have fallen off the new Lantana plants, although some buds are forming. I am hoping the plants will put down good roots over the winter and spread out nicely next spring. In October, I will pot up some violas and kale plants to fill in the spaces over the winter.
The evergreen holly tree in the corner has only been in the ground for two seasons. It grows very slowly, but it is covered with green berries that will soon turn red and remain on the branches throughout the winter.
I am still experimenting with Pelargonium cuttings. In the summer heat, my cuttings from the Pelargonium graveolens (Rose Geranium) rooted well in moist soil. Even though they are related, all my efforts with Pelargonium citrosum (Citronella) utterly failed. Undaunted, I took some cuttings again this morning. Perhaps they will root in water during the cooler weather. The fragrance in my studio after I brought in the cuttings was intoxicating.
This week I am up in the mountains. At home, my husband is faithfully watering my plants. This morning when I called, he had just finished watering the courtyard. He had lingered for a moment, and he remarked how nice everything looked.
The thought of him there made me smile all day.
Contemplation Garden 