A Good Home, Canadian Gardens, Garden Scenes, Twigs in My Hair - A Gardening Memoir

The Garden at Summer’s End

There’s a  freshness and tranquility in the late summer garden that extends into early autumn.

Blog Photo - Late Summer Garden Hosta and J Maple

The colours are more muted now, but no less impactful.

Blog Photo - Late summer garden hosta and birdbath MCU

Blog Photo - Late summer garden Hydrangea and chairs

Green leaves are greener, the pinks of sedum and blues of caryopteris can be seen more clearly.

Blog Photo - Late summer garden deep pink sedum

Blog Photo - Late Summer garden blue flowers of caryopteris

Even the trees are slow to turn orange and red this year, as if ceding the moment to the softness of this season.

Many tomatoes are still green on the vine.

Blog Photo - Late summer garden tomatoes

So this is how the summer ends:

Not with a bang, but a flower. A flower and some fruit…

Blog Photo - Late summer garden apples turning on tree branches

… and a branch of colour, peeking out to signal that autumn is on its way.

Blog Photo - Late summer garden Small Maple branch turning orange

I wish I were the kind of person who totally absorbs herself in the great now of it all, blocking all thought of the passage of the season.

But you may remember: I failed Mindfulness & Meditation 101.

As with the great times with loved ones, I’m greedy to want this moment to last.

Blog Photo - Late summer garden hosta white fragrant CU2

And when autumn blazes in with its glorious colours, I’ll find myself wanting to fix that in stasis too. For just a few more weeks.

It’s all a wan thought, a vain attempt, at holding off winter, you know.  We are a winter country but I’m not a winter person.

Blog Photo - Late summer garden - chairs and umbrellas CU

Note to blogger friend, September 9, 2019

“Yes, Laurie, there is a bittersweetness in the air, a time when we lose one thing and gain another, and even the flowers that bloom now are a reminder of the end of the flowering season.”

Note to my journal:

“I’ve long thought that gardening is a form of art. The soil is our canvas; we paint with flowers, shrubs and trees — always paying respect to Mother Nature. So let us add gardening to the canon of visual and natural arts, and recognize that we are, perhaps, the most fortunate of artists.”

 

A Good Home, Garden Scenes, Uplifting Myself

I’d Never Seen My Garden…

… from certain viewpoints.  You could call it: The Paths Not Taken.

Blog Photo - Garden Beauty shot July 2018 -- view from yellow lilies in blue pots to white chairs across pool

It’s such a lovely place. But I didn’t venture far enough, and always saw the same things from the same points of view.

Blog Photo - Garden - Beautiful long shot to wall

Until today! Today,  I took a ‘daycation’. 

The day had started out badly — one of those painful mornings that make you want to curl up and feel very sorry for yourself. Pain can do that to you — temporarily blind you to everything else around you.

But why give in, I asked myself, when there’s so much to be thankful for? 

Blog Photo - Garden and open umbrella and plants

So I did some of the exercises they’d taught me at the rehabilitation hospital.

It helped, but wasn’t enough.  I needed to get out of the house! 

Off we went: cane, camera, Cynthia.  On a journey to find new lands right here at home in the garden.

First, I looked from the deck upstairs

Blog Photo - Garden Leaning tree and umbrella and blooms

Blog Photo - Garden looking down from deck

Then from the patio downstairs

Blog Photo - Garden wide shot with blue pot and trees

And gave thanks for what I saw.

I walked and looked — really looked

Blog Photo - Garden Hosta cu

At the garden from the back

Blog Photo - Garden woodland and hydrangea and japanese maple

And from the side.Blog Photo - Garden Japanese maple and cedars and chairs

I wanted to sit – I probably needed to sit 

Blog Photo - Garden umbrella and chairs from other side of pool

But I didn’t.

I looked at things while standing up

And while leaning over them.

Blog Photo - Garden Orange Lily

Blog Photo - Garden Bird bath

This tree trunk, below, and I were probably both leaning alike

But the steps beckoned.

Blog Photo - Garden Hosta and Chairs seen from path

Blog Photo - Garden Hydrangea and hint of woodland path

Steadying myself, I headed the other way

And beheld this stunning view

Blog Photo - Garden Other side at back

I lingered, dazzled

Only slightly aware of the gentle rain

And walked and looked — really looked

Blog Photo - Garden beauty shot July 2018 -- back garden with trees and beds and walls

And saw

Blog Photo - Garden single Fern

Blog Photo - Garden beauty shot July 2018 - corner of back garden shows bee balm and trees

Blog Photo - Garden Walls two levels

Then slowly, carefully, climbed the terrace steps

(This is stated for my family members, who worry…)

Blog Photo - Garden Ferns over wall 2

And, at the top, looked across

Blog Photo - Garden Ferns Closer

Then below

Blog Photo - Garden Hosta and Jacks

Blog Photo - Garden Hostas and lawn from other side

And realized I was smiling.

Grinning, actually.

~~

Blog Photo - Garden Longshot with open umbrellas

I once attended a talk my husband gave on perspective and creativity.  He used photography to illustrate his argument that we see new things (or see the same things in new ways) when we change our point of view.

I’m blessed and I know that. But some days I stay put when I should get up and change my perspective.  

~~

Blog Photo - Garden Blue Pots and view to terrace wall

When I was at Toronto Rehab, my therapists taught the art of distraction — a way to lift oneself above pain, reduced mobility and the resulting depression. 

Yesterday, I both distracted myself and changed my viewpoint. And a day which could have been miserable turned out better.

Hope your summer goes well.

Cynthia.