this year winds up I'm making time to reflect on those loved plants
that were lost this past spring. Winter was hard, ice storm after
ice storm that created layers of ice, some as 8” thick.
Unfortunately, the shallow rooted plants did not survive. Most of
those were plants I had cherished for years.
wasn't until late spring that I realized the loss of Turtleheads, a
beloved plant rescused from a derelict heritage property decades ago;
Meadow-rue, an etheral plant with blossoms so delicate in star
formation; the Toad Lilies I adored for their orchid blooms in autumn
when the garden was waning; and not the least, Lenten Roses. Each
plant had succumbed to the ice.
herbacious shrub Auria, while prolific, was a slug for water. In our
dry summers, it did not perform well. I was disappointed but not
surprised, though I did miss those lemon hued leaves amongst the deep
green of ostrich ferns.
spring the plan is to lay seeping hoses as soon as the frost
evaporates. Each and every grouping will be wrapped so the loss will
be less. It will be easier to accomplish as I will have time. Lack
of time this year when everything in my life suffered may be recorded
in another posting.
composted and up-heeled the newbies in the garden; refused to wrap
the confirerous as if they don't make it here in this climate they
won't make it anywhere; long passed pots of mums lay in repreive
among the yews; and green thumbs are crossed.
To celebrate what is left of July, Mr EL Grande Toadie...
These creatures are predictors of weather. If it's wet I'll never see one, but when it's hot and dry their presence is known. Floating in the Pond during the day, and prowlling the garden at night. This guy is obviously keeping the garden clean of bugs.
April was a difficult month with horrid cold and ice and snow. It left me standing with face pressed upon the patio door sighing. May has arrived, winning old mans winter prolonged battle to remain, and finally there is relief; a relief of life renewed.
It has been a week since I was informed of your tragic passing. My heart
still aches.I will
always cherish our friendship that began as kids and lasted these
many decades. Through thick and thin we were there for each other.
missives over the years when you finally got e-mail. Even today I
happened upon a site and thought O! Beth is going to.........then
reality hit once again. I laugh when I think of your first texts.
“Damnit Cheryl! Use capitals and proper punctuation! I'm old and
can't understand a thing you typed!” Old me arse, you were
unplanned visits that turned
into road trips that long outlasted my idea
of a quick journey, well that was you.
Keep driving and enjoy the journey. The
artist studio tours we attended savouring and whispering critiques
were special days. You thrived in their
environment and I was envious of your creativity. I read the card
you created for my special birthday and wept. To think of the hours
you spent painting, writing, collaging that card just for me still
touches my soul.
visits at your log home with your hubbie and own children. You
always made everyone feel right at home. Why
does the recollection of you arriving
here with your daughter resplendent with her green hair come to mind.
As I hhmmmed, you shrugged
and laughed “kids today”. You raised your
children right and I cry when I think your grand-daughter will never
know what an awesome grannie you would have been.
many hours we spent here at the Pond, discussing the garden and life.
You always left with a trunk full of plants and later shared photos
of them growing so well with your guidance. You certainly had a
green thumb, make that two green thumbs for your own gardens were
well known and admired by all who had the pleasure of enjoying them.
I posted your most prized photo of your garden
and the haiku I wrote for it. You smiled when I sent it back to you.
endless discussions of fae
and otherworldly creatures knowing we both believed. I dusted off
Silas the gremlin you and Amber sculpted and gifted to me. It's in a
place of honour in my home. Sharing shelf space with the
mannnnnnnnnnnny frogs. I always laughed when opening a birthday gift
as I knew it had to be a frog. Frogs balancing on lily pads, sitting
in a yoga position, I got em all.
always encouraged me to write and were so
thrilled when I sent you my book of ponderings. Without your review
'cause mah grammer ain't
always been great, it would have been a regretful project. The many
press releases and letters you gleefully edited. And I will never
forget you in cahoots with my
brother to have Charles dedicate one of his books for me, well dear
Beth, that holds a special place on my bookshelf. I've already begun
quirks and eccentricities were understood by you and no other. Am I
being selfish when I state there will never be another in my life who
gets me the way you did. That fact causes me a greater sense of loss
than no other loss of family or friends. It also scares me that I
feel so alone. No one will ever take the place of you Beth. No. One.
could write pages how grateful I am for having you in my life but
you already knew that
as does everyone who had the honour of knowing
you. You leave a loving family and many, many
friends realizing the loss of you in their lives. I grieve with
them. While you will live on in our memories know they will
never replace your presence.
sister of another mother, I miss your face...
Like your favorite flooded cave, your kindness is deep. You have a strong work ethic and are not afraid to hop to it to get the job done. Far from a flaky frog, you don’t jump to conclusions. Ever since you were a tadpole, you’ve been easygoing and likeable and are a good leader without being mossy, so other frogs lean on you without knowing it. Thanks to Michelle at Rambling Woods :)
Tsk tsk tsk
Ponderings From The Pond are from this mind. Photos are views from my lenses unless noted. I retain copyright on my words and my photos and may not be replicated elsewhere without prior written permission. Ponderings from prompts are acknowledged.