Sharing the morning

I went outside to water this morning, my son accompanied me. He helped me with the hose as we took it out to the new trees we planted this spring: a Weeping Willow for him...a Red and Silver Maple, Bradford Pear and Locust. I showed him how to take the new shoots off, allowing the tree to grow in height. We talked about the names of all our flowers: the Black-eyed Susan, Purple Sage, Petunias and Vinca, Marigolds, Salvia, Snapdragons, Rose of Sharon, Verbena, Butterfly Bush, Boxwood, Daylily, Mums, Dianthus.... and it struck me as so special. Here I am as a mother walking with my child talking flowers, just as I did as a little girl behind the heels of my own lovely mother.

My grandmother grew iris. They were her specialty. Inside a box of beautiful assortments I have medals and ribbons from the 1960's that bear her name. "Slater's Posy Patch"....a sign above her garden where she sold and shared and experimented with her flowers. I think about my grandmother, seen most often in a stooped position above her garden, still wearing a dress, her hair... perfection. She passed that love on to my mother who sowed seeds with love all during my growing years. Our home was an arboretum of beauty and solace and I really took it for granted until I began my own floral journey. Many precious thoughts of those years go through my mind on this morning as my son and I go out into the garden...