Every day I walk to work. I have what I call the highway and the country road. The highway is the gravel drive down to the nursery. It is straight, well defined, and the most direct route. The country road is the grass path through the garden. It winds its way passing shade gardens to open sunny gardens. It carves a wide path slimming down to narrow paths, under open sky or a leafy ceiling. I can choose the billy goat trail down the boulders into the nursery or the easy, cool path with damp, mossy soil that slips easily into the growing areas. Either way, it is always an opportunity to see and interact with the garden. Yesterday, as I was on the highway, I pulled over to take a ponder. The colors and the mood of the garden had changed again. This fascinates me. In very early spring the garden was electric blue and chartreucey yellow from the pulmonarias and euphorbias. These colors were like bright high notes, gleeful and happy. “Yay, spring is here!” As the blues and yellows faded, the pinks, whites, and splashes of oranges from the rhododendrons came. These flowers gave the garden a full, softly confident, satisfied mood, as when sitting on a rock at the top of a mountain after a hike. The rhododendrons then slowly stepped to the side to make way for the German Iris. They began to play their deep purple notes, the falls in lavender and pale blue fluttering. The baptisia flowers now stand erect heralding large and purple. “Yes!” they say, “This is good! I am so glad to be here. Welcome summer.” The iris, having said what was bursting forth are stepping back now, the baptisia softening their voice, and the peonies are opening ever so sweetly with big white fluffiness and soft yellow deliciousness, the luminescent yellow of the oenothera fluttering beneath. Such a symphony! Such a story! And all the while the leafy green is there, supporting it all.
