On My Gardens: Love, Legacy, and Continuance
I’m sitting on my front porch drinking morning coffee, my ancient Addie at my feet, her pups, now ten, Bella and Charlie, hunting in the grasses and wildflower garden that line the driveway. Birds sing in stereo from forests and lawn: American robin, goldfinch, chickadee, nuthatch, red eyed vireo, chipping sparrow, flycatcher... In the gardens, lilacs, roses, irises, flags, laurel, rhododendrons, and peony bloom. On my front porch more: hanging begonia baskets, potted orchids, Christmas cactus, and amaryllis... Begonia petals litter the porch flooring. My plants are a history of my life. Some have been with me since childhood: my grandfather’s Egyptian spreading onion, my grandmother’s rhubarb, my parents wedding peonies that then graced mine and my daughter’s wedding bouquets. Some originally transported from Rochester, NY to my then South Lincoln, Vermont home many moons ago by my brother Steve who 50 years later helped choose the flowers that became Tegan's wedding table bouque...
