Sunday, June 7, 2009

FIELD NOTES: Rescued from the fall...

...a beloved Edith Wolford iris, from the famous White Flower Farm in Litchfield, a gift of one rhizome now repeated a dozen times around my perennial garden, fell to earth because of rain and my previous lack of foresight. The house came with an awkward rectangle of grass between the front of the house and the walkway that leads down to the driveway, so I scooped it out and planted. I should have replaced the old pressure-treated border and raised the bed to level the landscape, but too late now. Stem and stamen tilt forward whenever weighted with water and I find myself propping things up with rocks and ornaments and wiry devices...a dependent relationship. The senior citizens of my garden - the baby's breath and an inherited lavender - have finally lived out their expected lifespan and failed to return this year...and the tiger lilies that stood sentry in the background seem to have been choked out by a relative newcomer, Moonbeam Coreopsis, that I didn't keep my eye on. So I owed it to the one who fell to prop her up in place that was complementary to her complexion and where everyone could continue to view her elaborate tiers of ruffles in pale yellow and violet that I would never keep in my own wardrobe, but in nature's dress shop, anything goes, everything is always in style and grand old ladies deserve to go gracefully.

1 comment:

  1. Propped up flowers are better than no flowers. My grandparents always had flower gardens, and they would have to do things like this too in certain sections.