Healing Elements

Sunshine summons me, and I find myself outside much more lately. The gardens give their splendid gifts of color and texture, saturate me with their emerald glow, give life a new dimension, and bathe me in serenity. It is what I need right now. My husband created these gardens from rocky soil which he had to work by hand, day after day for many months. My Mother's love of gardening is now his gift to enjoy. He creates magic with gloved hand, amended soil, correct light, and Mother Nature's blessings. Self-educated in this art, he has listened carefully along the way, has taught himself well, has paid attention in order to make the right decisions. It shows.

I will be having major surgery in 2 weeks. It is a bit complicated and scary, this 4 hour procedure I must undergo. When I come home from the hospital I will be recovering among these flowers and shrubs, sitting among these towering evergreens. I will be lounging in the sunlight on the courtyard, surrounded by roses and the exotic fragrance of sweet alyssum flowing from pots of red geraniums and white bacopa planted with deep purple petunias and light, airy lobelia, as blue as the sky. I will be looking out onto a landscape of magestic lilies, white and plum and mauve, at perennials cast across a canvas in hues that bleed together like watercolors, listening to the birds call and sing, and watching them splash in their garden baths. Their competitors at the feeder, the fuzzy squirrels, will entertain me hiding peanuts, even from themselves, and chasing neighborhood squirrels away. Windchimes make quiet music in the breezes here and will add more tranquility to these moments. Everything around me is conducive to healing and joy. My husband and his love, our gardens and their beauty, the wildlife and its mysteries, and nature's all consuming, exquisite magic. Just what the doctor will order.

In the coming weeks we will take some photos of the lilies which are just now beginning to open. Until then, please enjoy the photos we have of our May and early June gardens.

Thank you all in advance for your good wishes during my surgery and recovery. I need and appreciate all the support and healing energy sent my way. When I feel up to it I will post an update on Facebook for those of you who are there, and I will try to get some photos of the lilies posted here. Until later, good cheer to us all!

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul.”

John Muir

Click on each photograph to enlarge for details. All photography shown is from of our private collection and may not be used in any manner without our written permission.

September's Song

Hummer drinking from
the honeysuckle on the arbor
It is that time of year when the gardens begin to change, when perennials begin to slowly prepare themselves for winter's rest. Sunlight is now angled low across the woodland gardens. It is romantic light which illuminates the gardens in warm hues and throws shadows which camouflage imperfections like airbrushing the landscape.

I like to sit on my favorite garden bench in the late afternoon and study the light while the squirrels and birds play among the cedars, some looking for bulbs and peanuts they have long ago hidden. I am sure the squirrels are anticipating their next treasure hunt. Soon we will plant more groupings of hardy dwarf tulips, muscari, and crocuses. They view crocuses much like my husband views molten chocolate cake!

Last year we found ourselves deluged in early winter rains before we had finished planting the fall bulbs. Bags of tulips and daffodils were placed in the garage inside their darkened bags until late February when we remembered them. Sure that we still had 6 weeks of cold weather ahead we pulled them out and planted hundreds of bulbs in several huge garden pots instead of digging the cold winter earth. April brought masses of color and a valuable lesson - we will do the same thing this year. Using pots for tulips keeps the gardens from looking so messy when the blooms are spent. Pots are easy to remove to a secluded area in back where no visitors go. We still have daffodil bulbs in the gardens which have naturalized and return each year so the springtime landscape will continue to be sprinkled in gold and the spattering of red from the few tulips which also remain.

Soon we will be making an annual trip in search of fall color. Sometimes we drive along the Skykomish and Wenatchee Rivers in the Cascades where one of the rivers is only a few feet from our car; other times we travel along Puget Sound from Skagit County to Bellingham through a variety of elevations overhanging the water. One of our favorite drives is south to the Columbia River Gorge in Oregon where shades of yellow and gold seed the shoreline in shimmering threads of light. Along the winding fjords color mixes with the emerald fir trees as the river rolls across its rocky path between the craggy cliffs.

Until autumn splashes vivid colors throughout the landscapes of our city, I will spend a few more weeks enjoying the summer gardens, looking through the photographs of our summer bounty and recalling the moments when we welcomed every bloom with open hands and hearts. The rewards of hard work and our intense love of nature's mysteries keep us busy in spring and summer. In September we rest a bit, smell the burning wood, bake apples, enjoy the purple asters, take evening naps under warm throws, and remember...


"The winds will blow their own freshness into you,
and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop away from you
like the leaves of Autumn."
John Muir
Click on each photograph below to enlarge the image.

The Steller's Jay below, the cobalt blue bird with the black crested head,
has been summering here for 5 years. He was born on the property.
When he was young he rode around the gardens on our shoulders and heads and ate peanuts from our hands.He even knocked on the glass door to come inside, once slipping in and stealing something white which I could never identify!
Here is a photograph of his most recent offspring, not quite fully feathered.
We are always eager to see our Steller's Jay each spring!
While he is less tame now, he still follows us around the gardens,
sits with us when we are planting, glides low to get our attention,
and responds to our voices.

All photographs are from our personal collection and may not be used without explicit and written permission.

That Yellow Balm Called Sunshine

Ocelot Bearded Iris
It was the coldest spring of my life. Well, except for that Saturday in May when it shot up to 95 degrees and burned the buds of our bearded irises after it burned my face. Spring flowers do not thrive in temperatures that high. We were all stunned here in western Washington. After that day it was cold enough for shawls and sweaters, and if you are especially cold-natured like my husband you wore your winter jacket most days and nights. The positive side of a cool spring is that the flowers stay on the stems longer and the colors are more vibrant. The negative side is that the plants don't grow quite as large and everything blooms more slowly. If you add in the heavy rains we had in early June you can expect some plant and stem damage. The weight of the rain falling on large flower heads often bends the stems to the ground. As a result, our bearded irises quite often fell flat. I rescued several stems which still bring golden yellows and purples inside the house in a bouquet mixed with canary yarrow. I missed seeing all the irises open together this year in their expansive wash of color in different corners of the gardens. There was no spectacular show of tall stems bursting into color along the walkway. We have waited a full year to see the various colors of the new irises we bought in Oregon last summer. We are still waiting for many to open.

I had wondered if the tuberous begonias we planted would rot before they could rise above the soil line. These are lovely in shady areas as an understory to ferns. They were impossible for me to grow in the hot, humid weather of Atlanta, so it is a treat to live in an environment well suited to these beautiful flowers. In the woodland gardens the mauve California mallow has opened her petals and is thriving in her new home. We found her near Schoolhouse Beach along the northern California coast and decided to bring her back to the Pacific NW where she lives happily among new friends: ligularia, hydrangeas, and hardy amaryllis and orchids.

Having worked in the chilled spring air for several weekends puzzle-piecing flagstone into a pathway through the woodland gardens, we recently decided to take a summer's day break on a sunny June afternoon. We traveled by ferry along Puget Sound to a couple of islands dotting the waterway. The sun warmed our shoulders as we traveled southwest down narrow, rural lanes exploring unfamiliar territory. We revisited Seabeck Harbor along Hood Canal, a beautiful old milling village which was once a vibrant seaport. Little is left but a conference center and a couple of community stores. Homes, many in the several million dollar range, are now perched above the shoreline overlooking the Olympic Mountains, the majestic backdrop to the salty, lapping water of the Sound. This place is one of my favorites of the western Washington shoreline. Scattered sunlight formed a haze across the horizon where mountains meet sky, draping the Olympics in a film that forbade sharp, clear photography. The truth of this astounding beauty would have to be told another day. As we ferried out to yet another island we saw seals, sunning lazily on bright red buoys, reminding us that sunshine, in correct proportion, can be a healing balm for most living things. We turned our faces to the warm air and headed into our next discovery.

The Spring Garden

Click on each photograph to enlarge. All photographs are from our personal collection and may not be displayed or used in any manner without our written permission.Collage above from left to right on each row: Blue Sky Columbine, Lavender Rhododendron, Black Barlow Columbine, Sappho Rododendron,Key Largo Rose, Purple Sensation Alliums, Darcy's Choice Bearded Iris, Midas Touch Rose

Five Dollars Will Buy You a Rainbow

Friday's sunshine lit my face leaving a warm tinge across my cheeks. I tossed my shawl across the back seat so the light could fall across my shoulders as we drove. We headed north into a beautiful spring day of blue skies, eager to reach the tulip fields in Skagit County. These fields are grown only for the bulbs which will be sold. One day they will be blooming in gardens across the country. We have been visiting these tulip fields for years, even before we married. It is a special occasion for us when we make this pilgrimage north.

This is the first year we could not have our annual picnic of delicious Dungeness crab sandwiches. The crabmeat is shredded across bread which has been drizzled with some kind of yummy relish spread. Plain, simple, and delicious. Reidel's, where we bought these sandwiches, has been torn down; the right of eminent domain toppled a store where we shopped every time we were in the valley. Yes, even Skagit county is growing. Busy lives demand wider highways for quicker access. Visitors to the tulip and art festivals in the area and those headed to Anacortes which sits west of Burlington on the water probably created traffic jams. Now we are unable to find the saltwater taffy, garden whirl-a-gigs, windchimes, homemade Chow-Chow, pepper jellies, and BBQ sauces. They are all GONE. Berry preserves, mustards, marinades, and salad dressings that once lined the shelves along the back of the shop can't be found in local stores. We must order Chow-Chow from Dillard, Georgia and pay for shipping. We had said Goodbye and were prepared for this void since we learned about the plan last year after a whale watching trip to Anacortes, but we were sad to see the stark asphalt now storing only highway equipment instead of hosting our favorite general store.

Even though it seems each year that there are less tulip fields than we once found in La Conner, we are always so stunned by the vivid colors which await us that volume seems insignificant. Snow covered Cascades rise in the background, and fields of tulips and daffodils dance lightly in the currents of air which move into the valley from the Sound. Flower pickers create bouquets for tourists to purchase at small stands near the fields. Five dolllars will buy you a rainbow. Photographers stroll along the paths, enthralled like we are with the colors and shapes. The way sections of color move into another is like waves in the ocean becoming one body of water. A wide pathway seems headed straight into the northern Cascades. Country barns decorate the distant fields, and large stands of trees and grassy meadows surround the purples, pinks, reds, and yellows. It is surreal. It focuses you on the magical gifts of nature. It compels you to come back each year.

Along the way we found a public garden across from one of the tulip fields and decided to explore. We were alone in the garden. In the stillness of the late afternoon we found a very old cherry tree with withered, tangled arms still pink with blossoms. Beyond it other trees leaned in odd angles to the ground, beautiful in their asymmetry. A wooden bench invited meditation and silent appreciation. Early blooming rhododendrons, tulips and daffodils were scattered about the garden. Pure serenity, a quiet treasure, this perfect gift of nature brought another perspective to the day's journey.

Springtime lights the country in magnificent colors, but the Pacific Northwest is remarkably radiant at the moment, and we love to watch her glow! Consider a visit and see for yourself.

All photography is from our private collection and cannot be reproduced or used in any manner without our explicit and written permission.
Photographs were taken in La Conner, Washington
in the Skagit Valley region of the state.