04/12/2022
A Hidden Chatham Garden
A warm ray of sunlight glides across the winter frozen ground, casting its early warmth into the waiting soil, thawing the land’s eager awakening. A first single shoot appears followed by another and then another till at last the green stems are crowned by brilliant yellow trumpets, a sea of golden daffodils above blue hyacinths. How is that possible? This magnificent cycle of life, bulbs left year after year untended, suddenly coming to life to welcome spring, as allium shoots up its purple balls, there under the soon to be blooming weeping Chinese cherry, its pink blossoms blushing in spring’s warm zephyrs, swaying to and fro on the tree’s long weeping tendrils, thrilling us with its spring blush, then petals turning white fall like tiny snow flakes on a greening ground where forget-me knots have cast their blue hue and a Peony’s shoots begins to rise and unfold, leaves first, then buds with black ants savoring its nectar. Do they cause its opening, its unfolding of lush creamy white blossoms with just a dash of red hidden like a blood stain their within their virgin folds.
Along the road, where honeysuckle bushes are covered with the Montana clematis vines, their purple flowers in bold display, it irreverently defiantly climbs up an electricity pole at the corner and onto the wires above, there next to a tricolor beech, its pink tinged leaves circling their light green centers. Light filters through its branches down upon large leaf Hostas that seem to grow larger each year along the driveway’s border, competing with ever blooming Hydrangeas, pink and blue, and wild red cape roses compete with Annabelle Hydrangea’s white snowy clusters of tiny flowers.
Bougainvillea with its tiny pink flowers that has sat in the light of our bay window in our drawing room avoiding the winter chill, now moves to the front along with a Mandevilla rock Trumpet, which has survived three winters, coming to life each year as it is brought out into the sunshine.
The air warms, the sunlight is stronger, as rhododendrons and azaleas explode like fireworks of magenta, purple, red, white, in every corner of the the gardens. Then just as quickly, like a July fourth firework display, fade in the growing heat and a Korean Vibernum gives off its amazing scent above May apples that shyly hide their pretty white single flower under broad leaves. Then it’s the roses turn, tiny red leaves unfolding and turning green before sending new shoots and forming buds from which roses yellow and pink and brilliant red greet buzzing bees drawn by their irresistible scent as birds bathe in the bubbling fountain’s lowest bowl as water spills from the tiers above.
Solomon seal edges a pond with its small white flowers hanging from its arched branches competing with lily of the valley. A large frog sits on the lily pads smugly in the pond’s center, watching for dragon flies as water lilies open in the sunlight, closing at the end of each day.
On each side of the entrance to the rose garden, Casablanca lilies send up their strong shoots forming buds which burst open to their glorious aroma-filled white trumpets. As I enter, I’m almost overwhelmed by the power of its scent, while on either edge of the perennial garden clumps of phlox one by one set to bloom in pink and magenta and white and a rose of Sharon, bends under the weight of its blossoms.
Months ago I’d taken dahlia Tubers from the cellar the bringing them into the sun where now in new potted soil, they began life anew. Then as the tubers sprout, each finds a place, some on the desk, some in the garden adding their brilliant large bloom, colorful accents complementing Blue Hydrangeas. In a shaded area of the garden, I place begonia tubers, red white and yellow, wintered over in the cellar and nurtured back to life each spring. They are such a joy with their full summer long blooms even after much else has faded.
Now is the time for the stately Stewartia tree to turn its buds to blooms, white blooms with yellow centers which fall almost as soon as they are touched by the bees that swarm around them, falling to land face up like small sunny-side up eggs covering the lawn. The southern magnolia blooms, its large white flowers high up in the deep green magnolia leaves now towering over my garage.Then last but not at all least, the Cimicifuga Ramosa that has waited patiently with its dark green leaves till September to send up its long stems of tiny white flowers carrying the sweetest aroma imaginable. As the evenings turn chilly, bumble bees gather hanging onto it to get the last of falls nectar before heading to nests to sleep through the Winter. Only the green winter Christmas rose now blooms as the garden returns to sleep under a light frost.
