Three cheers for the paniculatas variety of hydrangea!The peegee tree!
The cold climate cone!
Today, Perri at my feet and fever on my forehead, I am exploring the great possibilities that await, as another growing season is before us. On a drizzly walk this morning there was discussion of landscape, which has got me thinking a lot about staking claim. There is a fence to be erected in spring, and lengthy discussion about what, once boundaries are established, will become the essence of us. I have always felt strongly about gothic back yard gardens that have hazy black cloud poppies and petunias, save the grandeur for the front, the facade that it is; in the front beds plant white majestic things like lupins and hydrangeas. Offset the starkness with bursts of pink and red; sweet william, caledula, etc. Does such a garden create not an intoxicating mystery? I think so. But then there is the ever inevitable fact that because fence goes up, do neighbours go away? No they don't. Neighbours are the beer guzzling neanderthals who chain smoke outside and, no matter what the fence size, will investigate goings on hell or high water. So should the garden become a prickly and impenetrable cookie cut rendition of all Parker facades, just so they say heelo to us? Therein lies the question. Do you make your master work in town, in front of the hoardes of nosey small towners, or do you wait in vain for the ever fickle possibility of country side? Of acerage and acerage and acerage and ZERO spoiled scenes. I can see the peace offering garden take shape; it is, as Henry says, full of hostages, the most far out thing is the hens and chickens sprouting from the rocks. There is no fence in the peace offered garden, maybe instead community vegetables and moonlight horse shoes with She and He. For now though, I will rest on my zone 5 laurels and germinate some chamomile so I calm down.
Ever After with Feve,
JP
JP
