A photo blog connecting life and the natural world in and beyond the garden.
For those who have followed this blog, this story may be redundant. In the fall of 2004, the evening of my eldest daughter’s birthday, it began to rain. The rain was a prelude to the tropical depression that was about to descend upon us, Ivan. Eleven inches of rain later the water rose and receded and we no longer had a home to come home to. The foundation had shifted and the gardens I had created all washed away.
But let me backup. A week earlier as I was walking through my neighborhood I conjured up enough courage to ask a neighborhood couple if they would extend me the courtesy of touring their garden. They of course said yes and the tour commenced. What I remember is that the backdrop of the perennial borders were magnificent amaranth plants, all taller than me. The gardener broke off a drooping flower head and told me to shake the seeds into my garden and then thin to meet my needs. The flower head ended up on my potting table. A week later the water streamed in the potting table ended up somewhere in the garden and the flower head washed away.
Fast forward – a new home was purchased, every plant I could dig out came home with me. The following spring daylilies and hostas were planted and the amaranth sprang forth. Seeds had swirled around in the flood waters and came to rest in the leaves of the daylilies. Ten growing seasons later they still adorn the gardens at Valley View.
The Vernal Equinox is only 20 days away and still snow and ice cover the gardens. A storm is looming promising more snow and single digit numbers are not uncommon.
As I look out the window into the gardens I wonder what is patiently waiting under the snow ready to germinate when the warmth of the sun’s rays kiss the bare earth.
Every year it’s a surprise. The majority of my garden flowers are the children of what came before. Self-seeders dominate, I wonder who will persevere this year?
As can be seen by the date stamp,this photo was taken in 2010. These Daisy mums are the children of a plant given to me by a coworker and subsequently transplanted from our first home. The year was 2005. In 2008 I did not have time to cut back the spent flowers and the following spring I found numerous seedlings. I left them grow in their original space and that following Autumn was blessed with a variety of colors. They now grace the expanded gardens.
As beautiful as these elusive creatures are I prefer they continue their hunting practice across the stream in their woodland garden. Unfortunately I have seen their paw prints in the newly fallen snow along garden paths on my side of the stream!