Archives for posts with tag: roses in spring

It’s the last day of “winter”. It hasn’t felt much like winter for a handful of weeks, aside from an occasional frosty morning, and one brief cold snap with temperatures below freezing. Tomorrow? Spring.

The primroses know Spring has arrived.

The hardy primroses in the front flower bed are blooming. My impression when we moved in was that the trio of tidy clumps with their merry blossoms were (probably hastily) added as part of the sort of flurry of activity a homeowner does to prepare a house for sale. Chasing “curb appeal.” I like them fine. They’re not fancy. I’m not particularly attached to them. They do reliably make me smile when I pass, each time I leave or return home. That’s worth something. I don’t see myself pulling them out… probably just add more, other colors, shake it up a bit with some variety, or something of the sort. Certainly, I don’t hold my lack of passion for primroses against these durable show-offs; they are blooming quite generously, and this time of year, they’re really all I’ve got for flowers. The handful of tiny grape hyacinths here and there bashfully do their best, and I appreciate each of the wee flowers opening up as the days become sunnier. Over time, I hope to create a splendid cottage garden full of flowers, and scents, and things to take pictures of. For now? It’s primroses.

The roses in the garden know it’s Spring, too. There is more new growth every day, and already I regret not “taking a firm hand” with “Baby Love“; she is thriving (and then some), and was still blooming in December. (My failure to prune her was mostly to do with that. I was enjoying the rose being in bloom.) Now she’s a chaotic mess of last year’s foliage, this year’s tender new foliage just unfolding, and withered hips from the last flowers that bloomed. It tickles me to see this rose do so well; my Traveling Partner gave this rose to me, back in 2011, after we moved into an apartment together. It did well in a container, and has never let me down – almost always first and last to be in bloom. We’ve had a good decade together. (The rose, and also the partnership.)

Although I’d kept several roses going for (almost 3) decades in containers, when we moved from that last rental into our home, and I prepared to move the roses, I was caught unprepared for how many were doing so poorly that I had concerns about bringing disease or insects to the new location, which is very close to a natural forested area, with a creek running through it. When I got the closer look needed to move pots that had been in one place for a couple years, I was dismayed by their poor condition. Potbound. Roots rotting. Infested with ants. I hadn’t left myself enough time to deal with all of that. Most of them didn’t make the trip, and went, instead, to a rose-loving neighbor. “Sweet Chariot” and “Nozomi” made the trip – but they were both replacements for ones I’d had for many years, and were only a few years old. Another, “The Alchymist“, I bought thinking fondly of my Traveling Partner, not too very long ago. One rose in the garden was the first rose purchased specifically for this garden; “Easy on the Eyes“. No doubt there will be more, eventually, when I have a better idea where I might want them.

…Funny how much I enjoy roses. It was rather “accidental”. My first husband bought a little house in Texas when we were separated, to get me to come home. (Rather stupidly, that worked and I quickly regretted my life-threatening short-sightedness.) In the front of the house were some massive roses, overgrown, stiff, tall, and straight – they blocked the front window with enormous red blooms that were powerfully fragrant. “Chrysler Imperial“, “Olympiad“, and “Mister Lincoln” were so bold, so red, and so… rose-y

I didn’t yet know what I didn’t know, and I pruned the roses back aggressively, without a second thought. I learned some things from that experience… like… wear long sleeves and garden gloves when tussling with thorny roses. Ouch. In the backyard of that house, along the back fence, the previous owner had planted quite a few small “shrubs” of some sort. They weren’t doing well, and I wasn’t sure what they even were. We mowed them down entirely, figuring that would make short work of them – and some weeks later, they came back stronger. Miniature roses. I learned then that roses are not hard to grow – they’re glorified sticker bushes. LOL I fell in love with the miniature roses. I undertook to learn more… and here I am. I grow roses.

I love roses. I don’t even mind the thorns. I like hybrid tea roses, and species roses. I like climbers and ramblers and minis. I love the many scents of rose that are each so different – and somehow reliably also very much rose smelling. I love the varieties of different sorts of blooms, and the many shades of green of the foliage of roses. Oh sure, some hybrids are so delicate that one may as well claim to be farming powdery mildew as stake a claim to growing the rose, but I confess; I “shovel prune” those and move on to a cultivar or species that will do well in my garden. It’s easier than arguing with powdery mildew, I promise you that. LOL

Why am I sharing this bit of myself with you, tonight? No particular reason, besides Spring. Tomorrow, I’ll spend some portion of the day in the garden, rain or shine. Tidying things up for later plantings. Assessing the damage left of winter. Making up my mind about which greens to plant in the vegetable garden, with the onions, garlic, shallots, and herbs that I know I’ll want for cooking. Carrots? I think I’d like to plant some carrots, too. Maybe some peas or green beans of some sort. Things for stir frying? Maybe so. The garden is where my thoughts are this evening, and that’s worth sharing (and enjoying) – if for no other reason than that my thoughts are not on warfare, or sorrow, or global conflict, or mired in the lingering recollection of some task to deal with at work or some spreadsheet I can’t stop thinking about. I’m more than content to have my mind in the garden. I’m even happy with that.

I’m working on doing a better job of taking care of the woman in the mirror. I’ve been a bit shit at that, lately, and I can do better. 🙂

So, here I sit. No coffee; it’s evening. After I finish this, I will retire and meditate, maybe read awhile, and maybe even sleep in tomorrow. It’s not a fancy way to enjoy an evening – but it’s enough, and I am okay right now. 🙂

It’s definitely Spring. Small sprigs of new growth are turning up everywhere. Flowers beginning to bloom, though generally only those that bloom earliest, not minding the remaining handful of chilly rainy days to come. There’s a metaphor here.

Leaves unfolding, welcoming Spring.

I looked out onto the deck yesterday, early in the morning, and made a decision to begin readying the container garden for Spring. I let go of grieving roses lost to summer heat and succulents lost to winter cold, and looked on the garden with new eyes, vision no longer obscured by tears. There is so much promise in a Spring garden. More metaphors. I sat down with seed catalogs and thoughtfully considered what to replace, what to move on from, and what new opportunities are in front of me, now. I made careful choices based on a lifetime of experience, which now includes the heart-wrenching woes of the past year, and also, the extraordinary joy I’ve found, and so often. I made a tender sentimental choice to replace just one of the lost roses, with another of the same variety. I took time to appreciate that it will be “the same rose”. I made mental notes of some things I’ve learned from caring for that particular rose for nearly 3 decades, in a pot, and some things I can do more skillfully this time around. I made an exciting choice to add a long-gone favorite I’d had to leave behind many years ago, and somehow never replaced, in spite of how much I loved it. I’m eager to see it thrive here, in this more wholesome place. I added a rose that has a tiny bit of baggage to it, too, unconcerned with any of that, and trusting that the here and now will allow me to let all that go; it’s not my baggage, and it wasn’t my rose. I picked out a new one that so beautifully complements the others that it just seemed to be a necessary thing. (Are you keeping track of the metaphors, here?)

The Spring garden is about more than roses. I like to grow some vegetables, too. I also happen to be a tad whimsical, a bit careless, possibly with a tendency to be a bit lazy… and… yeah. I’m the gardener I’ve got. I do better each year, and learn more about making the most of what, and who, I am. This year I made the choice to pick out a handful of veggies I’ve done very well with, that don’t seem to require much of me, and just one thing that tends to insist I am attentive to a lot of higher-maintenance details. Ease, balanced with challenges. That’s the goal, anyway. So, this year it’s carrots, beets, various salad greens, Swiss chard, ground cherries, and tiny alpine strawberries. I’m fairly terrible with growing peppers, so why bother with that? Tomatoes? Well, I grow pretty awesome tomatoes, pretty easily, but they don’t agree with me so much these days, and I don’t generally eat them. lol There are more metaphors here. Are you listening?

Ready for Spring.

I’m not trying to tell anyone else how to tend their garden. I can’t even make skillful recommendations; I don’t know the lay of the land out your way, or what the soil conditions are like, or whether you are an urban gardener, or someone with a hobby farm, and I certainly don’t know what food you like to eat, or whether you have a fondness for beetles, or… you see, it’s all very personal and subjective. I just know that when I tend my garden, I need to show up, to really be there – or the roses die in the summer heat, the vegetables bolt or whither, and the succulents die in the cold. I’m just saying, my garden is a deeply useful metaphor for a great many things going on in my life, rich with lessons to teach me as I reflect on my experience, fingers in soil, birdsong in my ears, and gentle breezes kissing my cheek.

It’s time to begin again. I finish my coffee, smiling, and thinking of Spring. It’s a metaphor.

Wow. I dislike what ‘news’ has become.  Political corruption? Hardly news-worthy, it’s an everyday thing, and it will continue to be for as long as we elect corrupt or corruptible human beings to positions of power.  It would be nice if a politician had to accept that role with the clear contractual understanding that he or she could not ever personally profit from that role in a direct way, or if anyone in power were ever actually held accountable for what they themselves force the nation to endure by their decisions or actions.  This is not an article about politics, or news.   I found it profoundly adult to hear Angelina Jolie go public with her account of choosing a double mastectomy over her very high risk of aggressive breast cancer…and found myself dismayed and in some cases disgusted that anyone would choose to criticize her choice; it was hers to make. Period. It’s a shame that women without that level of income, or those resources, don’t have the opportunity, realistically, to make that choice themselves. This is not an article about breast cancer, or the limited health choices that women without means face, or feminist issues of gender-limited personal freedom and choice.  Not a day goes by that the news doesn’t have another story about rape, and equally heinously, another story about what women ‘can do to prevent being raped’; rape is prevented by people not committing non-consensual sexual acts against others, it isn’t more complicated than that. Don’t rape.  The news these days just isn’t worth reading most of the time.  Not because the information isn’t valuable, not because some of what is observed isn’t newsworthy, but because the presentation of so much information is tainted with bias of one sort or another to the point that it isn’t ‘information’ at all; it is marketing, propaganda, spin, color, or outright lies. ‘Fact-checking’ relies rather heavily on someone, somewhere, being able to tell the difference between fact and opinion. lol.

I’m frustrated by how easily my balance can be disturbed by the media. ‘News’ that is intended to distress, to frighten, to alarm, to ‘call to action’ rather than inform, advise, or enlighten isn’t ‘news’ at all – it is an attack on my consciousness. I avoid it. I ask friends to stop sending me links to things. Ah, but we all use Facebook, don’t we? Well, I still do – some very dear friends and loved ones use it as their primary form of communication, long distance.  It’s hard seeing some of the things people post. More and more of my friends use ‘trigger alerts’, which I value. I’m using them more, too.

28 days… one menstrual cycle away from being 50. lol.

Spring is still unfolding all around me. I love the walk to work in the mornings; strolling past each neighbor’s garden, seeing the flowers opening day by day, feeling the soft chill morning air against my skin, or perhaps a tender misty rain falling – like this morning.  I keep returning to my own garden, morning and evening, watering, watching, loving…

Kiss of Desire, kissed by a misty morning rain.

“Kiss of Desire”, kissed by a misty morning rain.

I love the colors of morning, and the surprises…

"Graham Thomas" blooms for the first time this year.

“Graham Thomas” blooms for the first time this year.

Last year we picked out some roses likely to do well in this garden. “Graham Thomas” was one, and already quite large and eager to take his place as master of the central flower bed.  I’m quite delighted, also, with “Ebb Tide”; covered with buds and blossoms of a rich deep purple.

"Ebb Tide" wowing me.

“Ebb Tide” wowing me.

Old favorites draw my eye, too, and I smile even thinking seeing “Baby Love” on the other end of my walk home tonight.  Selected with sentiment and love, she was the featured rose of my last garden, a much smaller space – too small for my grand plans. lol.

"Baby Love" will bloom like this through the year and well into November.

“Baby Love” will bloom like this through the year and well into November.

My garden is a sanctuary where ‘the news’ can’t reach me.  When I’m in my garden, I am in the moment, aware, engaged, and being on this extraordinary other level.  Still working on mindfulness practices I am hoping will one day be very natural in my experience, as natural as stepping into my garden.

A mystery rose.

A mystery rose.

…Life has a lot of lessons to share, a lot of mysteries to reveal. Perhaps one day I will find mindfulness an easy part of being, and figure out what that mystery rose is, or find the words to tell the world “You have no power over me.”

In the meantime, I meditate, practice mindfulness, consider my Big 5, learn better skills for taking care of me, and hope to ask the questions that reveal my own heart to me most clearly.  In between, I garden.  😀

 

I had some interesting thoughts this morning over my coffee; they lead to interesting discussions over coffee with my colleagues later on. Discussions of ethics, language, and the way we make distinctions between one thing and another. Definitions of terms really matter, circumstances and context make a difference, and every individual brings their own experience, and their own values as an individual, to every conversation.  I’m pleased to work with ethical people who are good-natured and compassionate.  I learn something from them every day about being compassionate and treating people well. Even when we don’t agree, the opportunity to reflect on a divergent perspective is valuable.

Work in progress...

Work in progress…

Yesterday evening I enjoyed an opportunity to hang out with friends we haven’t seen in a while.  Good people. Kind people. I didn’t want to be tired at the end of the evening.  This morning I woke with thoughts of ‘going home’ to other old friends, reconnecting with other people supremely dear to me.  I will, sooner than later, but perhaps not as soon as I would like to. I keep contemplating the urgent importance and value of connections…friends, lovers, family…even strangers crossing my path in some unexpectedly serendipitous way…my most cherished memories are almost all memories of some connected moment. I want to put more attention on those connections, build them and invest in them with effort and will, not just haphazard circumstances and fond memories. I think I’d like to make a point of visiting a far away friend or family member at least once a year.  It seems too important to waste more time with ‘oh, we’ll see each other again, eventually…’ – because maybe we won’t if I take that approach? Our mortal time is finite.

Afternoon thoughts are different than morning thoughts… there was something to say yesterday, and now it is long forgotten.  I did get some pictures…

Blackberries have begun to bloom...and I must have taken a dozen pictures, not one came out clear and sharp. lol

Blackberries have begun to bloom…and I must have taken a dozen pictures, not one came out clear and sharp. lol

A grand old oak stands in the sunshine along my journey.

A grand old oak stands in the sunshine along my journey.

...a small wilderness along the way, so fragrant on a warm spring afternoon.

…a small wilderness along the way, so fragrant on a warm spring afternoon.

Bold and lovely, the peonies are opening.

Bold and lovely, the peonies are opening.

Even humble chives show their best colors in the afternoon sunshine.

Even humble chives show their best colors in the afternoon sunshine.

The light is different in the  morning…and at twilight…and at midday.  I see different things. I think different thoughts. Today I am awake and aware, without drive or purpose beyond being in the moment. A lovely quiet morning, meditation and a latte, and then with time slowed down to the moment, I went into the garden to water and see the sunshine at dawn.  It isn’t a sunny morning, at all.  It is gray and overcast, and the light is so different, filtered, soft, and muted. Still a delight to my senses, and I happily watered the potted roses, giving each a good drenching. Again this year I struggle with powdery mildew – and in the Pacific Northwest that’s an annual event.  Spring will harden to summer, and new leaves will unfold and the roses will continue to bloom; for now, many of the more delicate varieties have that powdery menace as they fatten their buds for the first flowers of the year.  I love each rose nonetheless, and the stories they have to tell of my life and loves: Sheer Bliss, X-Rated, Magic Carousel, Kiss of Desire, Nozomi, Secret Recipe, Baby Love…they each have a page or a paragraph, meaning that goes beyond flowers.

'Baby Love' this morning.

‘Baby Love’ this morning.

The garden path and 'Splish-Splash', my oldest potted rose.

The garden path and ‘Splish-Splash’, my oldest potted rose.

So lush in spring, my garden, my paradise...

So lush in spring, my garden, my paradise…

After the peace of the garden, the walk to work was calm and serene, and a continued sensuous pleasure. I feel good today. It’s the rare morning that I don’t feel pain. It’s easy to enjoy the details and the surprises in the world around me when I don’t hurt.  I see more. I think less. It is easier to simply be.  I found myself rather puzzled at one point,  contemplating the number of times I have been chastised as a child or criticized as an adult, for the pleasure I get from being still… no wonder it was hard to find peace and balance! I was being continuously coached to give up the very thing that provides me the opportunity to find those things! 🙂   I don’t feel like I am searching for peace and balance, anymore. I feel like I am building them, within my own experience.

Someone else building peace and balance along their journey left this behind for me this morning...

Someone else building peace and balance along their journey left this behind for me this morning…