Join me in the garden
"When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the garden." —Minnie Aumonier
Hello dear readers,
“When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the garden.” -- Minnie Aumonier
Minnie Aumonier was a poet and a painter. I wonder what she would have thought about her keen observation about a weary world showing up on tea towels, calendars and affirmation posters. It’s too late to say thanks — she died in 1952 — but I’m grateful all the same.
But then I remembered the language of plants
Most of the time these days I’m without words to grasp what’s going on in the world around me. But then I remembered the language of plants — so I’m letting the plants in my garden speak for themselves.
Top left: Sea Kale (Crambe maritima) the prettiest perennial cabbage you’ll ever see.
Rop right: Euphorbia cyparissias ‘Fens Ruby’ with golden heather. I trust everyone knows NOT to plant this rhizomatous perennial unless you’re ready to live with it for life.
Bottom: Myrtle spurge (Euphorbia rigida) — slightly less wandering than ‘Fens Ruby’ — having a moment with golden lemon thyme.
My love of teal foliage is showing!
Top left: Dicentra formosa ‘Langtrees’ I forgive the blooms, which are the color of a stained tea towel, for that persistent teal foliage.
Top right: Artemisia versicolor ‘Sea Foam’ with Nassella tenuissima. Clearly, in addition to teal foliage, I’m fond of plants that wander at will.
Middle left: Eryngium maritimum I have a rich fantasy life wherein I live on the beach, which makes me a sucker for any plant that references the sea.
Middle right: Tulipa polychroma A tiny tulip that echoes the blues and greens of our planet.
Bottom left: Dinosaur kale Here in the Pacific Northwest we are required to grow kale.
Bottom right: A sedum that I’ve had for years but have lost track of its name. Someone suggested that it might be Sedum bithynicum, but I think the rounded leaves are chubbier than Turkish sedum. Another possibility is Sedum dasyphyllum ‘Major’. Oh how I love a mystery plant hunt.
Top: Maori dock (Rumex flexuosa) a homely brown dock. In addition to teal foliage, I collect brown plants — especially ones that echo the rust on my favorite chain in the garden.
A trio of teal plants see on our recent getaway: furry lamb’s ear, dwarf arctic willow (Salix purpurea ‘Nana’), and prickly lettuce (Lactuca serriola), a common weed but look at that purple stem.
We made a quick trip to the Bulldog garden this morning and ran into several other gardeners that are putting the community in community garden. I came away with berries.
Left: Evening primrose (Oenothera odorata) Right: Eustacia Vye, an intoxicatingly fragrant David Austin rose.
I hope you enjoyed this glimpse of my garden in relief of, well you know, everything else. Thank you for being here.
xo Lorene
This time last year
Summer Intentions
Here in Seattle our days stretch to nearly 16 hours and dusk lingers until 10pm. They say, well at least Shakespeare said, Midsummer is filled with the stuff of magic — seasonal magic that sends me down a memory rabbit hole.
We are all original
I spend a fair amount of time thinking about what constitutes originality. There’s nothing new under the sun — that is until you take it in and make it your own.
Happy Solstice
May these long summer days be filled with gardens, lemonade, and time to play.
Shop Talk
Thank you to everyone who ordered 1 or more color stories last week. I hope they bring you to you some of the delight that I feel when I’m painting them.
Each color story is a collection of nine original 4- by 4-inch watercolor paintings assembled in a unique color palette — that is, each one relates to the others in the set. And each collection is one of a kind, and did I mention that they’re all on sale?! Some of these color studies are several years old, others may be as recent as last week. These are not precious paintings but colorful remnants of a daily practice.
Select from the following color palettes: red, orange/yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, neutral, or multi
My Colors
I think my little oyster shell is blushing.
I’m happy to be back to a daily painting practice. Not because I’m pleased with each color study, I couldn’t capture that regal purple of the sweet pea. But I did come close to the buttery hue of the bud before opening. And that’s enough — there’s always tomorrow and the day after.
The Platonic ideal of a ripe strawberry. These are those days — ruby- red to their core, the fragile berries have a brief shelf life which of course is permission to devour them immediately. Nothing good comes of trying to hang onto a perfectly ripe fragrant garden strawberry still warm from the sun. I don’t even mind getting a little gritty dirt in the mix — it’s part of the sun-soil-fruit equation that makes strawberry season reason to celebrate. I’ve already made my first batch of strawberry milk. Trust me, you need this tangy, grown up strawberry milk in your life.
The first Apricotta cosmos are blooming, even though the plants are still just getting started. Like strawberry milk, the Mod, 70’s color palette of this summer annual feels nostalgic, like my favorite sherbet popsicle from back then. Maybe I need to find a frosted lipstick, too.
The intoxicating fruity bouquet of Eustacia Vye, the only David Austin rose I own, is sweet compensation for having to remain at my desk when the garden is calling.
So glad I looked at this just now. Plants!
This was a lovely share … thank you!