VERY LONG!!!!
- To: medit-plants <m*@ucdavis.edu>
- Subject: VERY LONG!!!!
- From: G* K* <g*@trump.net.au>
- Date: Wed, 03 Feb 1999 01:45:40 +1100
I am not sure if I wished you all a great New Year. May you all find
peace and happiness in your gardens
This was my observation as we entered into the year 1999 - reprinted
from an article I wrote for Suite101
Musings in the Garden
The year of 1998 gone, next year a New Century. As little girls in
primary school, now and again we would chatter about who would still be
alive at that exciting time. The general consensus was that as we would
all be 60+ years old, most of us would have kicked the bucket by that
venerable age. Now we have reached that enormous age, the passage of
time is but a fleeting thing.
Gardeners are the first to cry “Hooray”! at the hours passing as quickly
as minutes, the years merely a matter of hours. Why plant a tree that
is going to bloom when it is thirty years old? Why start a mammoth
project, the creation of an eight acre ornamental garden when fifty or
sixty years old? Because you are only sixty-two years old, the time
will pass rapidly and he or she knows the day will come when they see
the garden and the tree blooming in their full glory. After all, the
trees planted when the gardener was only a sapling are still young
things at their prime of life, fifty years later.
And yet, there is a conundrum for the passionate gardeners creating
their masterpieces as the years trip merrily away. The bones begin to
ache, the limbs begin to slow, the thoughts become mostly pensive and,
dare I write it, these dreams begin to meander through the years of
happy gardening and stop still for some minutes in awe of the beauty of
nature. It is at these moements, the avid gardener will cry “Stop for
a time and let us gather breath” And then the gardener sees the native
daffodils glowing in the far corner under the fifty year old oak tree,
the first rose of summer, the vivid blue of the crepe petals of a
meconopsis, the Christmas roses delicately giving their Winter cheer,
the Camellias and Rhododendrons rushing into their strident glory, the
pale pink foxgloves calming down the brilliant statements being made by
the Primulas and the gardener smells the scent of victory as the lilies
share their wonder.
It is at these moments, the gardener knows that time and their gardens
will go on forever.
And the gardener stoops and attacks the weeds with the nimbleness of a
three year old
--
Gay Klok Tasmania
NEW ARTICLE: February article: A murder took place in the Town garden:
HISTORY and CONIFERS
http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/tasmanian_gardening/14863
http://www.geocities.com/RainForest/Vines/3411
http://members.tripod.com/~klok/WRINKLY_.HTM
