I’ve been reading about the Golden Age of Gardening and formal gardens created in America starting in the 1880s. Wealthy Americans emerging from over- industrialized cities arrived in the countryside, acquired very grand homes and proceeded to create an oasis of continual blooms. Just like me. (Hah, I can dream, anyway)
The peonies are just about in full bloom but between rain and work, I’ve neglected their company. There’s something so full of life and romance about peonies. I think it’s their smell- They take me back in time, memories of my mother and my grandmother’s home in particular. When we visited upstate New York, there was always the smell of flowers in the air, on the porch and inside her home. Flowers are very much a part of living well. One of my fantasies is to have an attached greenhouse where I can keep blooms all through the long New England winters. At the same, time, I treasure the time to do other things in winter. Some of that is grooming photos and creating new pillow designs. In the end- it’s the same thing, I surround myself with flowers because even their photos have the power to transport you back to Spring and Summer glory- The smell, the warmth, the beauty. Always.
Did you know that the Golden Age of Gardening ended with the Jazz Age- at which time a distinctly new American lifestyle emerged…I was listening to Lee Morgan, a jazz trumpeter from Philadelphia, from the 60s. His sister gave him his first trumpet lesson at 14. Who ARE these people? So often, musicians are immersed in their craft at a very early age. I guess it’s no different than visual artists who obsess over peonies. (I’ll let you look up the word “sidewinder.”). What was Lee thinking? I have no idea! The Sidewinder