Gardening – Page 7 – Cynthia Reyes

A Good Home, Animals, Art, Artist, Country Living, Farm house, Garden, Gardening, Gardens and Wildlife, Home, Life in canada, Nature Paintings, Rabbits, Spring, Wild Rabbits, Wildlife, Winter

It’s A Wild Life

June 19, 2014June 20, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

It is a truth universally suspected that a family in possession of a wildlife painting must be in need of some wildlife.

Years ago, my husband’s family had a farm and he and I became custodians of it. The farm was on a hilltop so we cleverly named it Hill Top.

Husband, children and I summered and weekend-ed there. I loved that farm and wanted a name sign for our front gate. So my husband commissioned a local artist to make one for my birthday. Author-illustrator Beatrix Potter – she of Peter Rabbit fame and a farmhouse named Hill Top — came to mind.

The moment that sign went up, Peter Rabbit, his parents and all their friends took up residence in our gardens.

They ate us out of home and land. As soon as we planted vegetables, herbs and flowers, they ate them. There was soya and wheat growing in the fields. But why travel so far, when there’s good stuff nearby?

My husband couldn’t bring himself to hurt them — not with that sign out front. So there we were, hoist on our own petard.

When our family moved to another home, there were no rabbits — we thought.

And then two auspicious things happened:

We visited the old farmhouse. Our daughter noticed that the new owners had removed the Hill Top sign and begged them to give it back. They graciously agreed.

Soon after, our resident red fox – a predator of rabbits — upped and died. It might have been the sight of the sign that did it. But there was his carcass, lying across our stream.

It took gallons of expensive fox urine to protect our gardens that year. (If you want to learn more about that inauspicious episode, you’ll have to read my next book.)

And now?

Years after moving to our current farmhouse, we’re besieged by wild rabbits — again. Squirrels too, but they don’t eat shrubs, herbs, flowers and vegetables.

Last winter, the rabbits were so starved for food that they ate all my clematis vines, plus the barks of several tender young trees and shrubs.

My husband did a very manly thing: he shouted at them. The rabbits ran — and immediately returned.

We decided to sympathize. Wild rabbits, too, have to eat.

But soon it was spring — time to plant vegetables.

Husband decided the rabbits should be moved to a nearby nature park. He set a humane trap filled with things that Beatrix Potter said wild rabbits love: carrots and lettuce and cabbages. But we might as well have posted a sign saying: “This is a rabbit trap.”

Truth is, these particular rabbits mostly eat grass and clover so far this spring.

Truth is, our daughter has named them Fred and Penelope. (At least, she thinks there are only two. But where there are two, there are — or soon will be — a dozen.)

And truth is, my husband has put the sign up again.

Methinks it’s a sign of surrender.

Photos by Hamlin Grange.

A Good Home, Birds, Flowering shrubs, Flowers, Garden, Gardening, Joyful Moments, Life in canada, Lifestyle, Nature, Non-fiction writing

In A Dark Garden

June 12, 2014June 13, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

Have you ever walked in an early-morning garden after the rain?

It’s dark, fresh, cool. And quiet. Even the birds are still taking cover.

Everything’s drenched.

You squint at something pink in the darkness….

… ah, columbines. And you think how wise this first clematis bloom is, so nicely sheltered against a wall.

You’re lost in admiring this flowering shrub.

Its branches are so rain-heavy, they’re almost touching the ground.

You’re wearing sensible shoes, so your feet don’t get wet. But next thing you know, you brush against a wet branch.

And another.

Turning away, you almost collide with a horse.

Your hair, face, nose and shirt get wet.

But the air is cool on your skin. Fresh and earthy to the breath.

And one intrepid bird starts to sing.

You softly walk around in the dark garden, thankful to be alive.

To hear, see, feel, smell, almost touch this morning.

And to take a few pictures, even though you once failed photography.

Twice.

Dedicated to all early risers, including my beloved husband who takes care of our garden and takes much better photos than these.

A Good Home, Flowers, Garden, Gardening, Home, Life in canada

Bloomin’ Stuff

June 6, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

Stuff is blooming in my garden.

Pink Stuff – some that were expected to be pink, and some that came up in a different colour scheme. It’s very pretty, this pink and white columbine. But where did it come from?

The grace of the garden: you get more than you planted.

The surplus, Canadians call it.

Brawta, Jamaicans call it.

I just call it grace. And when I think about it, my whole garden this spring is an illustration of grace. The harsh winter killed off very little. The starving rabbits chomped off all our clematis vines and tender shrubs right down to the ground, but most are returning. And I’m able to walk around the garden each morning and evening, and enjoy the miracle called Spring.

The Purple-y-Blue Stuff — like this bachelor’s button — returned looking dapper.

Yellow Stuff like these day lilies bloomed early for our region.

And then there is Stuff that’s making me wait. Like the peonies and the poppies.

Anticipation. Aspiration. Expectation. These things build character. Don’t they?

Perhaps it is time for some meditation.

Whether you garden or not, I hope your spring is going well.

By the way, these photos are entirely amateur, and I won’t identify the inept photo-taker (I simply can’t call her a ‘photographer’) in order to protect the guilty. My wonderful photographer is busy with other things right now, but he will return.

Dedicated to the memory of Donald Moore, one of the most patient and expert gardeners I’ve ever known.

A Good Home, Family, Family Matriarch, Gardening, Gratitude, Home, Inspiration, Life in canada, Lifestyle, Mothering, Mothers, Non-fiction writing, Parents, Raising Children, Relationships, Spring Bulbs, Thanks, Tulips

Mother’s Day in the Garden

May 11, 2014May 12, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

One garden here at the old farmhouse is extra-special.

Partly shaded by a large red maple, it has two dogwood trees, two purple lilacs, a Japanese maple and a forsythia shrub. The Japanese maple was stuck there “temporarily” but was somehow forgotten and has outgrown its spot.

“One of these days, I’ll have to move it,” my husband says. But that tree is so big now that I suspect it’s not going anywhere.

Hydrangea shrubs and tree peonies also flourish here.

In front of them are smaller plants: Solomon’s seal; ferns; the intriguingly shaped “Jack-in the Pulpit”; the occasional trillium (Ontario’s official flower); may apples and another woodland plant whose name I never learned.

Pink tulips come up every spring, as do daffodils, astilbe, and hosta. It’s the only garden bed that’s home to such a variety of characters: woodland, shade, and sun-loving plants.

No wonder it’s called “Mama’s Garden”. The children she mothered are a variety of characters too.

Throughout the spring, pink lamium borders one side of Mama’s Garden, while blue forget-me-nots border the other. Recently, though, they’ve both strayed into the path.

“Your garden would look better if I could weed the path regularly”, I apologize to Mama.

And I can hear her voice saying: “Ah, m’dear. It’ll get done. Right now, there are more important things on your plate.”

My husband named the garden in tribute to Mama’s great love of gardening.

My mother died several years ago.

On every Mother’s Day since, I head out to Mama’s Garden, no matter what the weather, no matter what condition I’m in. I bring a sturdy mug of coffee, walk through the entrance arbour and down the short pathway, looking at the growing things around me.

I sit on the stone bench at the back of the garden.

“Thank you, Mama,” I say.

There are so many things to thank her for.

So I thank her and I thank God for her, and sometimes the talk with Mama gets mixed in with the prayer and it feels like the beings I am talking to are one and the same, but I don’t think either Mama or God would mind.

I give thanks.

For a mother who loved and tended her family. For a mother who taught us the importance of growing things. And for a mother whose love and faith live on in our hearts.

Garden photos by Hamlin Grange. Photos of Cynthia by Dale Ratcliffe.

This post is dedicated to my mother and mother-in-law, who mothered not just their own children, but all our cousins and friends when they needed mothering too.

Happy Mother’s day, and happy belated Mothering Sunday, to all women who tend and care for children.