Renewal

Where are you spring? I am longing for the promise of rebirth and all things new. Spring. I look out my window and I see rain and gray skies and remnants of snow that we will have fresh snow on top of again by tomorrow. I want to see tiny little sprouts coming up from the ground. Those little fragile faithful old friends we see every year peeking out from under the leaves that we didn't quite get during fall cleanup. The little spec of hope that we dare not uncover and expose yet because we know it is too soon and we want to keep them covered with their winter blanket of leaves.


My garden. Now I hate gardening, so I try to keep it simple. I love the perennials that just appear. They are faithful and return every year. I just wish their blooms lasted longer. That is why I have invested in Hydrangea's. They bloom all summer and well into early fall, They are beautiful. They come in different shapes, sizes and colors and only a few cuttings are enough for an impressive bouquet. Yes they cost more than some plants and annuals for sure, but they are worth it.


My garden is filled with wonder and awe at god's knowledge and truth that all things will be renewed. The miracle of a little seed becoming something so beautiful is one of God's gifts. Sometimes at the end of the summer season when they have the perennial sale, you know the ones that look half dead? I grab some. They are much cheaper and pretty hardy. With little care, I put them in the ground before frost and I wait. I don't usually remember what I have planted. Sometimes I never knew to begn with. I saw it for $3.00 and grabbed it saying to myself "we'll see in the spring what it becomes" I love the surprise of a new plant. They always come up. Sometimes way too big for the space I planted it, sometimes too small. It is all trial and error. So I move it. It might look like it will not survive for a while but they always seem to bounce back.


My garden is also filled with memories. Memories of gifts and holidays and people who have come and gone. Celebrations and sadness. My lilac bush that was here when I bought the house. It always reminds me of Mother's Day and the birth of my son. It blooms in early may. The scent of those blooms, no man made product can reproduce. I would bring my mother a bouquet every year. Such a pity they only last about 2-3 weeks.


The huge orange/gold roses that climb up the birdhouse pole. They bloom all summer. It is the perfect spot in the front of my house. I have other roses but none are as breathtaking as these are. The stems are as thick as a drumstick and the thorns can really do damage. It was bought at The Herb Farm in Peconic out at the eastern end of Long Island. One of mine and my friends Kristen's favorite places. It is a beautiful place to have a picnic and relax. Look at the gardens and property that overlooks the Peconic River. Much to my Godaughter Alyssa's delight there is also a pond with giant croaking frogs.


Circling the tree in the front that the front walk encompasses is all the Hostas that Rick's friend "Poppa" gave us quite a few years ago. The thing about hostas is they are pretty much indestructable. They get quite large and you can divide them. Just chop them in half or 3rds and you get more. They are great as dividers and edging. I had them in pots for quite some time until I decided what to do with them and they still would faithfully return right in that pot. Even if you get so lazy and leave them laying on the grass and forget about them, those roots will take hold and come back right in that spot next year.


I have tulips and daffodils and hyacinth (another smell you cannot capture ) along the side of the house. The 1st sign of spring. I do love these but so do the squirrels and I have trouble keeping bulbs. Those pesky rodents are forever digging them up. These flowers are mostly from Easters and Mother's Days gone by. From friends and Godchildren and sister in laws and sons and brothers and husbands and fathers and mothers. All assorted gifts from those special occasions as well as the lillies which I can smell as I walk by.


I am waiting to go out from my living room onto my patio with my cup of coffee and see my prickly pear cactus from Jane with it's vibrant yellow flowers. How can a cactus survive the winter every year? Amongst the rock garden the neighbors that inhabit it are my beautiful purple butterfly bush that I cut down every year and still becomes 6 ft tall with butterflies (as well as bees ) hovering around it every day. My oh so soft and furry silver green lamb's ears that make me wish I could have socks made out of them. They are one of the oldest on the block.


I have Stella Dora and Amazing Grace Day Lillies that I took a gamble on at The Bloomin Haus. I could not see what they looked like, but I liked the name. I am sure glad I took that gamble. They live alongs the white picket dividing fence with the tall grasses. They are so perfect and stiff that they look fake. You must touch them. I am anxious to see if Jackie's perenial Hibiscus returns this year. I trekked it home from Lancaster for her as she asked. I got one for me too but I think it died before I got it in the ground. If Jackie's comes up, I will try it again. I didn't know they were perennial. I am also patiently waiting on the arrival of Judy's Peony to return from last Easter. I hope it has blooms. Peonies have never done well in my garden but Kristens are spectacular and I find myself having peony envy.


Hollyhocks and Flox and Eucanacia among other flowers and plants I have temporarliy forgotten will all return again soon to bring me joy and simple pleasures. Perhaps though this year what will be the most bittersweet return will be the garden I planted for my mother last year knowing it would return this year. I wish you could see those returning hydrangeas and day lillies and other assorted flowers I painstakingly and lovingly planted for you Mom. Along with your light up birds and butterfly affectionately known as Mim, her friend who passed away a few years ago. Mim always said she was coming back as a butterfly. The hardest of all though, will be the bleeding heart my Mother gave me many years ago. It never fails to take my breath away by the wonder of it's heartiness and fragileness of it's petals at the same time. A Bleeding Heart. How fitting. I do not need this plant to remind me of you Mom you are everywhere. It's just that I am living with a Bleeding Heart.