| It's days like today that I'm glad I don't live on the Eastern Seaboard. Sexy as Boston or New York City sounds, 2-3ft. of snow and hurricane force winds can't be fun-- even for people that generally know how to clean up after it and stockpile mountains of salt to dig out. |  |
This January weekend was lovely here in the South. A favorite neighbor called to say the Camellia was blooming, and he had his boots on to walk the overgrown and rock strewn path back to where his Grandmother had lived and cultivated his love of gardening and nature.
Among the tall oaks and one single ancient magnolia stood his Grandmother's old house, padlocked and leaning. The porch floorboards had rotted through, and the chimney had long ago fallen through the ceiling into what used to be the kitchen.
Among the tall oaks and one single ancient magnolia stood his Grandmother's old house, padlocked and leaning. The porch floorboards had rotted through, and the chimney had long ago fallen through the ceiling into what used to be the kitchen.
The gardens had suffered a similar fate, and the years of benign neglect left most of it covered in a heavy layer. of leaf mold and compost and topped off with the fresh leaves that had fallen over the last year.
Amongst it all, at the back of the house stood the camellia. A hard frost and temps in the teens at the beginning of the month had left the buds burnt on the edges, and yet the bright crimson flowers were a lovely dot of life on an otherwise mostly dull winter landscape. The bright evergreen glossy foliage was the perfect canvas.
Amongst it all, at the back of the house stood the camellia. A hard frost and temps in the teens at the beginning of the month had left the buds burnt on the edges, and yet the bright crimson flowers were a lovely dot of life on an otherwise mostly dull winter landscape. The bright evergreen glossy foliage was the perfect canvas.
The camellia that flanked the front corner of the porch was covered with pink buds that had not yet begun to open. It was shorter and rounder and perhaps not as damaged by the frost. I can't wait to get the call that she too has burst into color. Dan promised me a display of showy pink & cream blossoms and a light scent.
I bid my neighbor a fond farewell promising that I will be back to dig bulbs that are starting to emerge. The forsythia are already in bloom.
From the back of the house, I find the old path meandering around the hundred acres or so of cow pasture and woods. My neighbor's house and farm is, as we say in the south, a half mile as the crow flies. It was a beautiful walk home.
From the back of the house, I find the old path meandering around the hundred acres or so of cow pasture and woods. My neighbor's house and farm is, as we say in the south, a half mile as the crow flies. It was a beautiful walk home.
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