When I bought these (I think from Salman Ranch Nursery near Mora), I believe it said ‘daisy’ on the sticker. These don’t look like daisies. What you don’t see in this photo is another clump of similar flowers – mostly gone now – that have sort of striped petals. I know, weird, huh?
A walk among my container garden is a bit of a mystery tour as I try to remember what each plant is. Some I bought from the annual Las Vegas First IBA flower sale, some I got from Salman Ranch Nursery and some came from seeds or Walmart. My Morning Glories were glorious, the perfect food for all the DAMNED GRASSHOPPERS!
Okay, I’m better now.
I have one pot full of grasses that are lovely shades of mauve and purple that wave jauntily in the breeze. Spikey ornamental grasses give height and symmetry to pots filled with trailing vines and succulents. Pansies poke their cheerful faces from among the tangle of foliage. My single hollyhock still has a blossom or two, but it is nodding its stalk in a bow to fall. The bright red geraniums are prettier than ever. The day lilies given to me as a birthday gift by a friend, struggle mightily. And then there is the trumpet vine that isn’t a trumpet vine but I don’t know what it is. I wanted a climber, which it is in an indifferent sort of way. What it did do was attract a lot of hummers. Yea! Of course, they’ve left the area until the return of spring. I wonder if the vine, whatever it is, will survive and come back for another season?
I make it sound as if this is all very neat and tidy. It is not. I haven’t minded my garden in quite some time. Bob waters the pots on the city’s designated watering schedule, but my usual habit of trimming and pruning has gone by the wayside. Now everything is pretty much a tangle, but for all that, I enjoy seeing the bright sprays of color among the fading vines, stems and stalks.
I am reminded that life is a little like my garden. I have brilliant flowers among my friends and family. They are amazing. I appreciate each one of them more than they know. Sometimes I don’t tend my garden very well by giving even half as much as I get, yet I know when I need them, they will be there, poking their cheerful faces through the stalks of my busyness, spreading the warmth of their care beyond the creeping vines of my distraction.
Photos: Sharon Vander Meer