Happy (Belated) Bloom Day

I learned of a tradition this morning. Technically, I’ve missed it, but I figure since I just found out I’ll be forgiven my tardiness.

Besides my punkin’s birthday, June 15th is the garden bloggers’ Show off Your Blooms Day or Bloom Day.

I’ve been showing off my blooms for weeks now, so it’s a no-brainer that I’m all over this even if I’m not strictly a garden blogger. [Note: I have no idea what kind of blogger I am – I’m still feeling my way.]

The new garden is starting to fill in a bit. For weeks now, I’ve been planting new stuff and re-arranging the stuff I’d just planted. The little darlings haven’t had time to settle in and grow. For the most part, the white garden still has the new haircut look – a bit too tidy – rather geeky looking.

Still. The wisteria is sending out tendrils, the new roses are blooming, the calla lilies are now two feet tall, and the spreading/trailing plants are beginning to spread and bloom. My blueberry plant has berries forming and I haven’t killed the tomato yet. The moss roses (portulaca) have grown in height and will spill over and begin trailing out of the baskets any second.

I finally got the hummingbird feeders up and already I have hummingbird rumbles in the jungle – watching hummingbirds fight is reminiscent of watching new kittens attack one another.

The garden (and some other things) has been my salvation. Back in December, I despaired that life events were conspiring to make me lose my sense of humor. My ability to laugh at life is my greatest strength and the feeling that it was slipping away was frightening.

My gardens contain many plants given to me by friends and family. Tending to them has firmed up the circle of life. Remembering a friend that died while admiring the buttercups she gave me grounded her memory in my heart. Photographing my great-grandmother’s irises allowed masses of memories to cascade. Remembering the passings of these loved people is not sad in the garden. Amidst the life and decay of a normal garden, remembering becomes part of the natural order and I can admire the blooms of their lives – now past.

With all the rain we’ve been having, the moss is spreading through the crevices on my patio more than ever before.  Perhaps oddly, the spreading moss is symbolic of those memories, but also of life in general.  While I certainly never intended for moss to grow there, its presence is both comforting and delightful even while I pray for the rain to stop.

Happy (belated) Bloom Day.