When the dog bites, when the bee stings,
when I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then I don't feel so bad. (Rogers and Hammerstein from The sound of Music)
when I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then I don't feel so bad. (Rogers and Hammerstein from The sound of Music)
No, I have not been bitten by a dog nor have I been stung by a bee, (recently anyway), but I have been feeling a little sad lately and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Is it a feeling of impending doom? After all, according to a few, the world was supposed to end last Saturday. Personally, I didn’t believe it for a moment, as I cheerfully drank wine with friends during the predicted apocalyptic hour. I actually felt a little cross at the “doom mongers” ranting, like there is not enough bad news in the world at the moment, and dismissed it from my mind... No, I don’t think it’s that.
Maybe I am feeling a little sad due to my own personal hormonal tsunami that seems to be in full force at the moment. Just like the real thing, it disappears out to sea one minute and then comes crashing onshore, leaving a pile of soggy Kleenex and bewildered family members to clean up the mess… Yes, I think that could be it… or a part of it anyway.
But… I can’t help but wonder if something really is amiss as, like me, Mother Nature seems to be rather menopausal. The earth is quaking a little too frequently; volcanoes erupt in angry displays, spewing their inner-most contents. Rivers flood, engulfing the land and tornadoes rip through towns leaving devastation in their wake. But despite the geological and meteorological catastrophes that seem to be plaguing the planet at the moment, I look to Mother Nature’s gentle side for reassurance which is evident in my garden, as it wakes from its winter slumber. I am confident that summer will follow spring, autumn will follow after that and all will be well with the world… Doom mongers, be gone!
Unlike Julie Andrews, when the doldrums hit I am not about to hike up a hill, twirl around a bit and burst into song but I will share a couple of my favorite things from my garden.
Apple blossom
Cherry blossom
“Raindrops on roses” No, but a downpour on hosta leaves, yes. It always amazes me me how my hosta plants disappear for the winter and re appear to fill the void in the garden with Jurassic proportions. They hold water droplets on their leaves like jewels that catch the light and sparkle, adding a little “bling” to their great green expanse. Next to the giant hosta is a sword fern which begins its annual rejuvenation by unfurling its new leaves from a tightly curled cochlea, reminiscent of a prehistoric fossil. Both plants seem to have come from another age and time. Have they too survived the wrath of Mother Nature over the millennia, to find themselves comfortably mixing with the youthful flora and fauna of my eclectic flower bed? I wonder
Giant hosta leaves after the rain Sword fern unfurling
“Whiskers on Kittens” Hmmmm…..I am actually a dog person and anyone who had the misfortune to be attacked by our (now deceased) cat will understand why. Rigsby was a cat not to be messed with. He had a mean streak and was not afraid to show it. We buried his ashes in a big plant pot over which we ceremonially planted a (very expensive) Japanese maple. I was all for sticking him in the ground but the kids were worried about leaving him behind if we ever moved house, so a plant pot it was. A year later the Japanese maple was dead and in its place grew the most enormous stinging nettle I have ever seen. It was as though that cat was trying to get his claws out…. just one more time. I replaced the Japanese maple with a hydrangea which blooms prolifically every year. It’s not flowering yet but is looking like it is going to give us a beautiful display and something lovely to look forward to.
Last years hydrangea
Now all we need is a little sunshine .......