cutting the peonies
before a rainstorm
Showing posts with label peony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peony. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Posted with BlogsyThursday, June 23, 2016
Friday, June 17, 2016
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Friday, June 7, 2013
Monday, June 18, 2012
June 18: New Moon
At an inexplicable low point in the biorhythms cycle today. Maybe I can blame it on tomorrow's new moon. But when I returned home, my day was salvaged by the explosion of fragrant peonies in my garden and the call of a loon in the distance, wending its way upriver back to the nest for the night.
Impending new moon.
If not for these peonies,
I'd own that darkness.
Impending new moon.
If not for these peonies,
I'd own that darkness.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
June 14: Peonies
What better way to enjoy a summer evening after work than to have a drink with a friend on the outside deck at the Waterfront Restaurant, watching the sailboats cruising in for the evening while ospreys cry overhead? And later, back home, it's still light enough to stay outside a little longer to watch a gregarious flock of waxwings fly-catching in an oak tree, and pick the huge, fragrant peonies that had collapsed onto the lawn under their own weight.
Something of the sun
lingers now inside the house--
peony perfume.
Something of the sun
lingers now inside the house--
peony perfume.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
June 9: Getting grounded
Today was the first day after a full month+ of birding weekends that I could 1) sleep in--which I might have actually done if the cat hadn't been so physically aggressive about getting me out of bed to feed her at an early hour; and 2) work in my garden.
With all the rain we've had and my complete lack of attention, the flower beds were out of control. Thankfully, the sun has finally reappeared. I pruned and trimmed a whole wheelbarrow full of leaves and weeds, and then, after the season's first trip to the local plant nursery, filled in some gaps. Now the sedum can see the light again, out from under the lady's mantle. The lilies aren't hidden under the monster hosta. And my herb garden has another year's round of lavender, cilantro, and catnip. Also, marigolds for color. A new "black" fuschia hangs by the front door, a bright blue verbena on the fence. The clematis is trained with string to begin climbing the porch rail. The lawn is mowed. Blue irises which my dad and I planted several years ago bloom once more against the white walls of the shed. Clumps of ferns burst up here and there in the backyard, which I generally let grow at will for most of the summer except for a path to the shed. My hands are covered with dirt despite wearing gardening gloves, and the soles of my bare feet need a scrub.
And I feel like I've regained some balance, grounded myself, quite literally, once again.
Pregnant peonies
tower over my garden.
I feel an odd pride.
With all the rain we've had and my complete lack of attention, the flower beds were out of control. Thankfully, the sun has finally reappeared. I pruned and trimmed a whole wheelbarrow full of leaves and weeds, and then, after the season's first trip to the local plant nursery, filled in some gaps. Now the sedum can see the light again, out from under the lady's mantle. The lilies aren't hidden under the monster hosta. And my herb garden has another year's round of lavender, cilantro, and catnip. Also, marigolds for color. A new "black" fuschia hangs by the front door, a bright blue verbena on the fence. The clematis is trained with string to begin climbing the porch rail. The lawn is mowed. Blue irises which my dad and I planted several years ago bloom once more against the white walls of the shed. Clumps of ferns burst up here and there in the backyard, which I generally let grow at will for most of the summer except for a path to the shed. My hands are covered with dirt despite wearing gardening gloves, and the soles of my bare feet need a scrub.
And I feel like I've regained some balance, grounded myself, quite literally, once again.
Pregnant peonies
tower over my garden.
I feel an odd pride.
Monday, June 7, 2010
June 7: Bowl of Peonies
Before the recent rains began, my peonies were little round balls of buds. Apparently the deluge inspired them to burst into full bloom. The top-heavy plants were then pounded by rain. This morning the stems and blossoms were splayed on the lawn.
After work I was finally able to mow the back yard and pay my garden a little attention. The first thing I did was string up the peony plants. So now they're upright once more, releasing the day lilies that were crushed beneath those thick stems and giant white flowers. To help keep them up, I trimmed some of the damp, frowsy blooms to display in a glass bowl as a table centerpiece. Their heady scent released by the rain and their pink-fringed frilly petals make them a most romantic addition to my kitchen decor.
Interestingly, the peony is a very common masculine tattoo image in Japan, associated with gamblers and warriors. The Chinese regarded the peony as an important symbol of wealth and prosperity, and it was the national flower of China at the turn of the last century. In Catholic European tradition, the peony is one of the many symbols of the Virgin Mary. After watching several episodes last night of "The Tudors," however, I'm thinking of them more as blushing young ladies-in-waiting, skirts and petticoats akimbo. Yet my haiku is more affected, I think, by the unexpected passing this morning of a friend of my parents.
After work I was finally able to mow the back yard and pay my garden a little attention. The first thing I did was string up the peony plants. So now they're upright once more, releasing the day lilies that were crushed beneath those thick stems and giant white flowers. To help keep them up, I trimmed some of the damp, frowsy blooms to display in a glass bowl as a table centerpiece. Their heady scent released by the rain and their pink-fringed frilly petals make them a most romantic addition to my kitchen decor.
Interestingly, the peony is a very common masculine tattoo image in Japan, associated with gamblers and warriors. The Chinese regarded the peony as an important symbol of wealth and prosperity, and it was the national flower of China at the turn of the last century. In Catholic European tradition, the peony is one of the many symbols of the Virgin Mary. After watching several episodes last night of "The Tudors," however, I'm thinking of them more as blushing young ladies-in-waiting, skirts and petticoats akimbo. Yet my haiku is more affected, I think, by the unexpected passing this morning of a friend of my parents.
My bowl o' peonies. Additional blossoms visible out the window in the background.
Dancing girls and kings,
peony petals--these too
must all pass away.
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