Working on two deadlines at the same time is anything but dull. The pressure is on full throttle – final stretch to Lyndhurst In Bloom which happens this weekend and less than a month to my garden’s Open Day. Both are very personal to me as they speak of my philosophy, my creativity and skills. In both cases, I’m aiming to share whats important to me – the natural world that deserves to be appreciated, admired and protected at all costs. Along the way, we find joy, laughter and comfort.
In the garden, given the vagaries of the weather, it’s been slower than I’d like. Between cold and rain, I’ve had to be cautious about bringing out plants from the greenhouse and/or planting too soon. This past week, I focused on replacing groundcovers that had simply run their course. In the garden, perennial doesn’t mean forever. They come back every year but many will eventually run their course and peter out over time.
This was the case with a favorite of mine – Mazus reptans. Originally planted along the side path that connects the front and back of the garden, it had faithfully performed spectacularly. But over the last couple of years, it started losing momentum and finally, very little showed up last spring. This is a very pretty garden stalwart. Undemanding, requiring no direct sunlight it carries on. Diminutive leaves delicately scalloped around the edges form fresh mats that knit together to beautifully cover the earth. The flowers come up a bit later in spring and look like small moths charmingly speckled in purple and white. So very pretty. After the flowers, the green carpet remains and serves for rest of the growing season.
It was a joy to find them in my local nursery and plant them in on Sunday.
Meanwhile, the creeping phlox in the checkerboard garden had been challenged by moss that wanted to take over. Last years wet summer had clearly favored the moss. So much of the moss got removed and new phlox was added to the ones that remained. This garden will have to be reexamined as it is entirely possible that conditions have changed more permanently with surrounding trees and shrubs casting more shade along with all the rain we seem to be getting lately. For now, the new phlox will do. I must research some other interesting yet suitable alternatives.
Opposite from attending to spring chores, is my project on seedpods for Lyndhurst In Bloom. A wholly different season and still so very interdependent. The diversity, sheer beauty and genius designs in packaging so well suited to how the seeds are dispersed is breathtaking. I’ve learned so much through my efforts at painting them. But as I created some arrangements this past weekend, I found myself learning more about how exactly those designs functioned. Quickly meshing into a network or snagging a hold on a neighbor just to get a bit of leverage, quivering at the slightest disturbance, using its sticky seed coat to attach firmly till its safe to open and send its seeds out into the world. They all wait patiently for the rain, wind or critters to help them. Some, do it on their own via ballistic action or gravity. And in each, the circle of life carries on. Just brilliant.
In all the busyness, I’ve been mindful about taking the time to enjoy the process. Giving each task due attention is imperative. Because to have a garden to work in is a privilege. To have the opportunity to show my art is a gift. To share both garden and art is a blessing. I’m aiming to deliver with Grace.
(c) 2024 Shobha Vanchiswar
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