this rose color is particularly unique. if you glance at it, you see it as red, but it’s not, it’s loaded with orange & just a dusting of violet/lavender (depending upon the light) which makes me think it is a beacon of color at the edge of a garden bed WARNING that you must be careful, mustn’t get too close, must pay attention to it (although it’s a small rose compared to the others that we’ve cultivated (even the potted ones.) doesn’t it look like a mexican folklorical dancer’s dress with its ruffle-y petals & cute little turned up skirt?
this ground cover grows underneath the rose pictured above–it has taken years for it to spill over the brick border into the spaces between the patio pavers (i wonder if we’ll still live here when it has traveled the ten feet to the back door) it could be another eternity (i’m not sure how many i have in me.)
my mother died on may 25, 1982 just one month before her 66th birthday. obviously devastated by her passing, although i had had some preparation (via my step-father & she) they tried to guide me to the eventuality/finality of it, but i was resistant & didn’t fully understand — how could she leave me? she loved roses & every time one blooms i think of all the roses that have come before & may come after & how much i would like to have had time to share them with her (& so much else.) every time one of my peers/friends/associates/acquaintances mentions their mother a little part of me cringes at the incongruity of life, it has no conscience & jealousy flares one last time, a dying ember in the grate.
sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy (sappy happy stupid song) there’s a little hanging of french glazed ceramic wall pockets on the atrium fence facing west which i’ve had the worst time getting something/anything to grow in, but finally stuck some broken off pieces of geranium in them et voila! they’ve taken hold along with some self-seeded lobelia from at least two if not three years ago & i couldn’t be happier with their sunny disposition & the happiness factor has tripled (bingo!)
the cymbidium orchids are so perfect they couldn’t possibly be real (unlike life with its imperfections & sudden losses & its serendipitous nature, all those things are only important to humans, it matters not to the rest of the natural world; fate has no part in the life of plants/other animals/rocks. why should it for us?)
m. looked at this photo & said “what is that?” & just as quickly said “oh, that little air orchid.” & unfortunately, it is the fate of this orchid (on its 5′ tall stem–because it never stops blooming, just reaching higher & higher, but the blossoms are so tiny & its cymbidium cousins, so gaudy in comparison, steal one’s attention that it does go unnoticed, except for the hummingbirds which are drawn to these delicacies & ignore the cymbidiums entirely, which might be a life lesson if one is paying attention.
…coming soon, my favorite rose one of my favorite roses (like children, you would never let them know who your favorite is — although you may have one — imagine the life of despair that one child might suffer if they knew) will be bursting into bloom. it stands nearly 6′ tall (maybe taller) & is loaded with buds (a clock is ticking somewhere)
a veil on a hat adds an aura of mystery, a scrim in the theater reveals subtext & hidden agendas, a thin wash of white across a color field obscures the truth. artists reveal their own truths, it is as they see it.
i try not to anthropomorphize but it seems to be human nature to force our emotions & thoughts on other life forms as if it would make us feel better, but i can’t not think this tree fern is happy, sparkling with water & sunshine & bobbing under the weight of the shower stream of water i’m brushing it with while i fumble with my other hand trying to turn on the camera, set it to macro & capture a fleeting drop of water (it makes me happy though)
at the end of the garden & the watering cycle (all the way around the house) a surprising bloom of iris hot yellow under the pinks & creams of two rose bushes, sunshine (a note on the sun: have you noticed how flat the sun looks when wisps of fog float across it–a white disk/dot hanging in the sky?)