Even a quick glimpse is a pleasure. |
A little serendipity always helps. |
A carelessly beautiful arrangement. |
Germans, like the English, are wonderful gardeners. Don’t believe it? Drive through any German village, town,
or city and see that every nook and cranny is bursting with flowers. Must have been women who did
those. Window boxes. Front yards. Back yards. Along driveways. Flowerpots by the door. Bicycle baskets still on the
handlebars. Yes, I have seen these.
Inspiring.
I am not a gardener, but I have friends who are and some are
even German men. For a bier and a
wurst, they’ll willingly share the secrets they’ve gleaned from their years of
playing in the dirt; which is a polite way of saying, put a beer in their hand
and they’ll spill their gardening guts.
But, after a few hours of pils, who’s equipped to remember Latin names,
or the best time to plant rhubarb, and why slugs don’t make good escargot?
Well, I remember a few secrets, such as: plant flowers in the sunshine, except
for impatiens, which apparently adore some shade, as I do. Details fade. Beauty lingers.
Which brings me to the expression ‘nook and cranny.’ Anybody know what that means? Nooks are small, out of the way spots
only women know about, and crannies are small crevices even more difficult to
find. All of them are evil. Would I use the phrase in a
sentence? Of course. My wife finds nooks and crannies to be
great organizational tools, which is why I’m developing a nook and cranny
eradicator.
In fact, men are born hating nooks and also express great
distain for crannies, preferring to place eyes-only items, such as the receipts
for the new shotgun and full surround sound media center, in more secret
places. Twice locked strong boxes,
labeled ‘Only to be opened in the case of my death,’ for example.
But, back to my friend’s garden, which is a delight and
shows great foresight in avoiding the use of nooks. Also, back to two of his
best secrets. Secret one: When you have a bare spot in your lawn,
lightly till in some dark earth.
Next, put grass seeds in a watering can and fill it with water. Then water the patch and the grass
seeds will spread evenly. Secret
two: To figure out where best to
plant flowers in your garden, take twenty years of trial and error, and never
give up hope.
You can tell if you have a really good garden. It’s like a living painting you can sit
and stare at for hours. A place to
enjoy your morning cup, or to relax with a sherry at dusk. The question is, what makes a garden
good? What takes a little greenery
and a few bursts of color out of the realm of mere plantings and into the world
of living art? One thing I’ve
noticed is that pockets of single color anchor a well planted garden. Diaspora
of types and colors is great, but only if balanced by strong monochromatic
patches that draw the eye. There
must also be a balance of differing heights and backgrounds of various shades
of green.
If none of this comes naturally to your eye and imagination,
visit some professional gardens, check out internet photos, or diligently spy
on your neighbors, while ignoring their habit of nude sunbathing. Careless balance, of form, size, and
color is the key. Yep, takes a lot
of time and work to achieve carelessness.
Time for another beer, while you lovingly gaze at some
photos of a wonderful backyard garden.
Meanwhile, I’m taking a fly swatter to those beastly crannies.
See how the heights, colors and shades of green come together! |
A wonderful unbalanced arrangement compliments a well trimmed hedge |
Visitors Welcome! |
Bill - I had no idea that you were a gardener. Wonderful. Europeans do seem to hold a special place in their souls for flowers. And for beer, don't forget.
ReplyDeleteThe Mean Bean - where we used to drink a few before class - has morphed into the Royal Peasant, a more upscale place. The little bar at the Georgia Center has relocated to the courtyard. Don't know if I can deal with many more changes...
Is this your garden? Oh so lovely. Like that bit of advice here and there. Like that there was space and then eruptions of color and degrees of green.
ReplyDeleteNot my garden. Belongs to a German friend. But, I love his garden!
ReplyDelete