Flowers on the Farm
“People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such
things”
-Iris Murdoch
When I am down-hearted, I look out my kitchen window to soulfully gaze into the familiar “middle distance” but what fills my field of vision are the gorgeous plush giant begonia in white, yellow and red.
They never fail to lift my spirits.
Our driveway is lined with a wildflower butterfly garden on one side and a white picket fence buried beneath peonies, irises, hydrangeas and roses on the other side. Even on a gray Monday morning they are all there gently swaying and winking at me, prodding me to smile just a little bit.
Then there are the day lilies and the true lilies, the lilies of every color that my husband has joyfully labored to nurtured through the brittle Minnesota spring (do we really call it spring?). Solomon in all his glory, right?
As for me, I have toiled mightily over my delicate, stubborn and very particular African violets. I talk to them, encourage them, and assure them of their beauty Sometimes they tease with appearing to bloom.. Most of the time they just ignore me, oblivious to my ministrations. They are my problem children. Keep them in a moist but not too moist environment, yes ma’am. Water from the bottom, yes, ma’am. 4-inch pot please, close enough, not direct sunlight, yes, yes, yes and watch for rot! I try to be vigilant. Sometimes I fail and am heartbroken when one of the passes. But when they bloom and revive, my heart soars.
My favorites are the peonies in the palest of pinks, fuchsia, maroon and white. Sadly, their blooms pass too quickly. Sometimes they lose their petals but oh how they carpet the flagstones for my outdoor kitties. But every year, near the end of May, they come back fuller and richer than the year before.
Unfortunately, they have crowded out our long-limbed purple and blue irises. To give these beauties space, last fall my husband moved them to a bed of their own at the entrance to our drive. This year they were just stems, but next year their splendor will grace our front yard.
We don’t pick our flowers, instead they stay outside to entertain and delight. They stay outside, away from the paws that deliver upper cuts and knockout blows to the vases. But I do photograph them for all of our pleasures.
