CHAPTER 1
Spring
Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world.—Virgil A. Kraft
In the Garden
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd palings,Stands the lilac-bush tall frowing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,With many a pointed blossom ringing delicate, with the perfume strong I love, With everyleaf a miracle ...
—Walt Whitman
About to Blossom
One of my favorite times in my flower garden is pre-bloom time. The blush on the plantabout to bloom starts to glow. It resembles a young girl of that certain age—twelve?thirteen?—just starting to fill out, grow up, straining to show her hidden promise. Then, ashine and dominance as it pushes everything out of the way to say, "Watch out world,here I come!" Tomorrow or the next day, I know it will be soon. Its arms reach out to thewarm sun and soft spring rains. Everything surrounding it stays down and low, letting thisone have its turn in the sun. I await anxiously for the peak to arrive. Tomorrow?
One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.
—W. E. Johns
Signs of Spring
Nature signals the return of spring to each of us in a different way. For some, it is theblooming of a redbud or forsythia; for others, it is the determined daffodil, who is thetrumpeter of spring, in bold pre-Easter yellow. For me, it is the dogwood tree, budding upeverywhere with pink-infused blossoms of thickest cream. I love that the dogwood is sucha democrat, growing anywhere and everywhere, in places where no other such beautydare show herself.
A man ought to carry himself in the world as an orange tree would if it could walk up anddown in the garden, swinging perfume from every little censer it holds up in the air.
—Henry Ward Beecher
Wildflower Meadow
I don't know about you, but I believe a lawn is vastly overrated. It takes a tremendousamount of water, too much labor, and causes vast quantities of chemicals to be dumpedinto our water supply. So I decided to dig mine up and plant a wildflower meadow instead.It took some work to get going, but within four weeks I had my first bloom. It was aglorious sight for six months and unlike a lawn, virtually maintenance-free. Plus I had analmost endless supply of cut flowers from late spring to late fall.
The tricks are to till the soil in the spring, select a pure wildflower mix (no grass orvermiculite filler) appropriate to your growing area, and blend the seed with four times itsvolume of fine sand so it will disperse evenly. After you've spread it over the dirt, lay downa layer of loose hay to keep the seeds from blowing away. Usually the mixes are acombination of annuals, biannuals, and perennials. And to keep the annuals going, youhave to rough up parts of the soil and reseed just those every year.
To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
—Beverley Nichols
The Way to a Woman's Heart is Through Her Nose
I have always been extremely sensitive to smells. Blessed (or cursed) by a finely tunedsense of smell, I find I am often led around by my nose. I have fallen in love because ofthe way a man smelled; when I was a child and my parents were away on a trip, I used tosteal into their bathroom and smell their robes hanging on the back of the door. One of myfavorite books is Perfume, the story of a man so affected by scents he can smell themfrom hundreds of miles away.
Naturally enough, I am attracted to flowers primarily for their scent. All my roses arechosen for odor—spicy-sweet, musky, peppery—if they don't smell good, I don't wantthem. My current favorite is a climber called Angel Face. I also love the heady smell oflavender, the spiciness of daffodils, the romance of lilacs and lilies of the valley, and thesubtlety of certain bearded irises. I particularly love the elusiveness of fragrance. Youcatch a scent in the garden and follow your nose to ... where? Now it's here; then it's gone.That's why I love the sweet olive tree that blooms in southern California in early spring.The fragrance is strong in the early evening as you walk down the street, but press yournose against a blossom and the scent diminishes.
My husband, who knows of my fragrant passion, surprised me last spring by planting me ahuge patch of multicolored sweet peas and an entire bed of rubrum and Casablanca lilies.Batches of sweet peas perfumed my office throughout the spring. Extremely long-lastingas cut flowers, the lilies bloomed for two solid months during the summer and, all thattime, the house was full of their heady scent. I don't think any gift has ever pleased memore.
And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes,
like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight
than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
—Francis Bacon
Fragrant Plants
Smell is so individual—I love narcissus, but know many people who can't stand it, andfolks wax eloquent about wisteria, the smell of which makes me sick. So in creating afragrant garden, let your nose be your guide. Here are some suggestions: jasmine,honeysuckle, sweet autumn clematis, mimosa, hosta, stock, evening primrose, nicotana,angel trumpet (especially the white), moonflower, sweet pea, ginger, lily of the valley,peony, and pinks.
Working in the garden gives me something beyond the enjoyment of senses. It gives me aprofound feeling of inner peace.
—Ruth Stout
My Primrose Patch
As a young girl, I was particularly taken by a row of primroses my mother had in a borderplanting. The colors were deep and pure like my favorite crayons—purplish blues, intensered-orange, and buttery yellows. I loved that such beauty came up out of a rathercommonplace and cabbagey foliage. When Mom showed me how to carefully separatethe...
