Their little faces lifting toward the sun and I think of my friend Marion and how much she would enjoy seeing the Pasque flowers (Pulsatilla vulgaris), at left, as they open. I hold that thought close, willing her to survive this stroke. At 83, she would say she’s lived a wonderful life, but I can’t quite bear the thought of her steady and encouraging presence being silenced in my life.
I let my thoughts move about the garden and look closely at the Scillas blooming with happy abandon. Their intense blue colours inspire me to pull out my paints. With the gentle wind of this morning, the flowers seem to be dancing and enjoying their brief stay in my garden.
New liverlily blooms are open today. Crouching over what is becoming a patch of them, I notice that my lone Shooting Star (Dodecatheon meadis), at right, has emerged – another adorable plant that will bloom and then disappear as the summer progresses.
These spring-blooming and summer-vanishing plants, glorious for their brief spell in the garden, remind me that this is how I want to live my life … in the moment savouring my life just as it is.
When I discovered the Shooting Star this morning, a memory flitted through my mind of my San Diego trip. Sitting on the balcony of my friend’s place enjoying sometimes lively, sometimes quieter and more contemplative conversations, I hoped for a shooting star streaking across the night sky as they often do there.
And how can they not bring a grin to my face, the Striped Squills (Puschkinia scilloides var libanotica)? They have a cheeky quality to them, as if they are mischievously plotting while I’m not looking. Their nodding white and blue-striped blooms bring more cheer alongside and in the midst of the Scilla. There is something inspiring about the way they increase year-upon-year with little work on my part.
Besides having a definite thing for flowers in blue, mauve and purple shades, I also love plant shoots in this particular pinkish-red shade. These shoots, at right, are of the summer-blooming Burnet (Sanguisorba officinalis). It is such a majestic plant in the garden, subtly complementing my beloved Meadowrues. Long stems of flowers, in a deep-maroon colour, sway softly in a gentle mid-summer’s breeze and resemble, to my mind, mini-bottlebrushes.
As I move the day, Marion will be much in my mind as I send many healing thoughts her way …