"Everything is blooming recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of night." Rainer Maria Rilke
I love this season of blooms - perhaps the most effortless time of gardening through the year. Without prompting, without watering and weeding, the plants know their role.
These irises, pass-along bulbs from my friend Jennifer, have been such great bloomers. I keep dividing them, moving them around to different spots, finding out where they're happiest.
I planted a few in front in front of this trellis that the boys built me just two years ago for Mother's Day. In that short time, one Confederate Jessamine plant has totally covered the trellis, yielding a spectacular show of blooms this year and successfully covering our satellite dish!
And the meager clump of daffodils I dug up from our rental house before we moved has turned into literally hundreds of blooms.I get so excited that first day when I notice daffodil shoots pushing up through the mulch, recognizing spring is around the corner when we can't imagine it to be so in the midst of the cold, gray days. I finally had enough blooms this year to feel that I could be generous with cutting -- giving away bouquets and keeping vases filled in the house.
Soon, gardening will become laborious. Pulling weeds (a task which Jackson once noted in a school essay as one of my greatest strengths as a mother) and watering will drag me down in the dog days of summer. I'll long for cool fall days and dream of what else I can do to the yard when we're freed from the sweltering heat.
So for now, I'll be swinging on the front porch, just watching and appreciating everything blooming recklessly.
