First Iris of 2008
I confess. I am a novice gardener, but I keep trying. I'm afraid my thumb isn't green; it's made of stone. I can grow rocks, but little else. As a child, I remember wanting a Rock Garden and asking mother to plant one. I thought rocks grew up out of the ground like her flowers.
Among nature's many blessings are rocks. Their ancient mystery, their constancy, the firmness, the eternalness. On a survival course in 1970 with BYU in the red-rock desert of Southern Utah, I gained an immense reverence for the stone canyons. The majesty of the cliffs and mesas is etched in my heart forever. My garden is a monument to rocks. For years I have spent many long. hot summer hours hauling rock from Big Cottonwood Canyon. Creating paths, borders and a small pond, purely for my families enjoyment, has been my summertime quest. I know I've hauled, placed and re-placed over a ton of rock. Among the rocks I plant perennials for greenery and to contrast of hardness with softness.
Wasatch Forest Service, the BLM and UDOT have offered rock permits each year on May 15 to the first 250 eager people. The permits are usually gone in two hours. This year the permits are not being given out. Budget cuts in the government services will not allow the extra effort these permits require. I guess my rock collecting is at an end!
My Tiny Pond and Pathway
After a long winter, my garden is starting to take shape. There's much work to do. But suddenly the temperatures are more like summer than spring. I hope my baby plants will take root and thrive. (Of course there is the obvious analogy between a garden and life; tiny plants and children, etc.)
Just the beginnings - May 17, 2008
Sheri Sheri quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row.
Scottish artist Shona Penny
I hope heaven is like the Garden of Eden and if I'm there, I'll sign up to work in the garden. There is no place I'd rather be.