T h e 'K a n E W A
Do kids do that thing in doodleland with the Antirhinums (bunny rabbits plants or snapdragons lol) where ya pick off one single flower and gentely hold it between thumb and forefinger and squeeze and it opens and shuts and looks like a bunny?Pretty pretty photos again :)Happy Tuesday.... x
Sighhhhh.. we use to grow hundreds of those Rubekia plants, the butterflys seemed to love them when we use to have about 150 all together in a display at a country show.... pretty pretty....x
yeeeeees. We used to strip these people's plants on the way to school making little bunnies. (wincing at the memory) Happy Tuesday to you, Mel! It's cool here--thanks for the break in the hot weather. The rubekia are gorgeous this year; absolutely gorgeous. And the butterflies are crazy about them. I've also been putting in lots and lots of bronze fennel over the last 6-7 years and they are finally settling in. The butterflies are everywhere as they love to feed on bronze fennel. Apparently they have taste and discretion. Some peopel love spring, which I do; some people love rose season, which I do; I LOVE August with tomatoes, rudbekia, lillies, petunias and snapdragons and marigolds. I do, I do. I love August.
I would to see your garden one day.... but I would have to stay a year to take in all the seasons it opened to LOLx
squeezing in the word 'love' between would and to LOLI must of had a mini stroke lolX
Meet you there Melody? Yes, yes, yes. LOL @ "the whole plant", J'Belle... that was cute. ;)
I also really love all four seasons of the garden. I love January just as much as I love June, high rose season. The garden somehow is a panorama of life to me and when I watch the birds and the squirrels in four different habitats, I am comforted and inspired at the same time. Somehow, they always make their way. And every morning, the birds sing to wake me up. Every morning, they find something to sing about. I drive by my grandma's house and over the years, her garden has been decimated and so longer exists. It was my first and remains my primary garden inspiration. I have not to this day driven by my mother's house since my dad moved out to the home. I don't know how her garden is. I still can't bear to think about it. But it was really pretty. My brothers said nobody did barrels of flowers like my mother. None of my children have gardens at this time in their life. I don't know exactly what all this means, but I think it means something. My garden is telling me something; but damned if I can hear it just right. But I just keep listening. And in the process, I hear so many other things....
Oh, gosh! More beautiful pictures! I love it! :) ~*
I am waiting for September... now that is the month I love. I find it hard to drive by my grandma's old house on Bridgeport Ave. also. The snowball bush out front just doesn't look the same...it took the sibs and myself some years before we got serious about gardening, but for me it was that legacy born with both grandmas gardens, then continuing with my aunt's and my mom's.
oh.... i loved the photos of the flowers also... i got distracted by all these rich comments.
Chani,I am practicing hard on my photography. It's easy to take these close in macro shots and as I have a big garden, I don't run out of posing scenarios. I'm going to do a post soon out of respect to Degas; remember all those ballerinas he did as light studies? The millions of them? I have the Degas Studies in spades on my external hard drive. Hundreds and hundreds of shots of hydrangeas, in different light. sigh. :) I am praying for a breakthough.
Mrs. Roosevelt, I think gardening, like cooking, is a legacy. For me, cooking was an unwilling legacy but I honored it and am always delighted at how people like to eat here. I know what to do and how to please them but it came was the hardware, just like the green eyes did. Nothing about me, but rather my gene pool. The same with gardening; however, I have a completely different relationship with gardening. It is spiritual; it is philosophical; it is psychological; it is social; it is therapeutic; it is sensual; it is the mass of the daily devotion that delights and details my humanity. I am so glad I got the gardening gene; I am so happy to recognize and realize it in my life. One brother did NOT get the gene; two brothers got the gene and don't garden. And I would say, in general, I have three unhappy brothers. As I peck away at my thoughts here, I remember a picture I have of my grandpa and his tomatoes. I know I already owe you a picture I took of Granny Smith apples on the prep table awaiting their fate as texture for turkey burgers, but I will post the picture of Pop and his tomatoes, too. I hope you like it. Have a super day. It is The Feast of The Assumption.
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