These days, the gardens here at Winterpast are in full bloom.
Roses of every color brighten the landscape, each carrying a wonderfully descriptive name: Tequila Sunrise, Happy Go Lucky, Grand Dame, Stainless Steel, and Bliss. Somehow, they all seem to fit their names perfectly. Especially Mr. Lincoln. He produces magnificent, deep-red tea roses with long stems, perfect for cutting and arranging.
Of course, the roses are not allowed to steal the entire show. Black-eyed Susans, zinnias, asters, and marigolds add their own cheerful colors throughout the gardens.
But this year’s true showstoppers may be growing in our garden boxes.
We didn’t plant an extensive vegetable garden this season. In past years, the garden has produced far more vegetables than we could possibly eat, or even give away. This time, we decided to try something different. We planted medicinal herbs and flowers.
What a fascinating project it has become. The anise may be my favorite, with its unusual and delicate blooms. The spearmint leaves will make a lovely tea and may help soothe the occasional sore throat. The toothache plant has the cutest little button-shaped buds.
And then there is the mystery beauty, not yet identified. Covered with strange little purple flowers, it towers above the delicate chamomile blossoms, demanding attention. Hiding in the shade, the chamomile quietly promises peaceful evenings and sweet dreams.
Yes, the medicinal plants have been the most interesting ones to watch this year. Every plant seems to have its own personality, purpose, and surprise.
This year, HHH and I have discovered the real benefits of garden journalling. By making notes about what took off and what withered and died, we’ll have a head start on planting next year’s seedlings. Which flowers handled the heat? Which ones bloomed the longest? Which plants attracted bees and butterflies? Which varieties would I happily grow again?
Those notes will guide us next March, when the seed packets come out, trays cover the tables, and the whole hopeful process begins again.
That is one of the gifts of gardening. We observe. We learn. We make plans. Then we begin again. And so it goes here at Winterpast, as the seasons go round and round.
If you have been enjoying the blog, I hope you will spend a little time this weekend wandering through the archives. There are many stories waiting there for you.
I’ll be back on Monday.
Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful weekend.