A Taste of Spring in the Heat of Summer

My Mother’s garden.

In the Spring, the hands of my mother turn the soil. She picks each plant lovingly and places it in the dirt. She pats the ground around it and wills it to grow beautiful.

She works her garden all the year, but most especially, spring and summer. Sweating, watering, and arranging until she gets it just about right (but it’s never done).

We look upon her gallery of color and placement as if in the finest of museums. From one garden bed to the next, there is more to gaze upon and revel in. Hidden delights find your eye in wonder. Magic sparkles and weaves throughout the yard, delighting in fairy tales come true.

I don’t know if I every thanked my mother for her work, or for the love of gardening, she has instilled in me. I don’t know if she knows how much I appreciate the beauty she brings to life.

I took my camera to Oklahoma, in hopes, I could capture her joy and return it to her.

Mom, you make life more beautiful by just being in it. Thank-you for what you share with us, and for what I can share with all of you.

Gardening is a very special gift. It’s a mix of nurture, artistry, and love. There are many lessons taught in the garden of life. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Martin Bird House

“There is always music amongst the trees in the garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it.”

A peek in the Garden

When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the garden.”

Cottage Blooms amid the Statues

Snap Dragons

Statue Garden in Oklahoma

“A little garden in which to walk, and immensity in which to dream.”

Garden Pansies


“All the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of yesterday.”

Garden Girl Statue

Rose Bud

“As you walk down the fairway of life you must smell the roses, for you only get to play one round.”-Ben Hogan

Rose Bloom

St. Francis in the Garden

“”True progress quietly and persistently moves along without notice.”
— St. Francis of Assisi

Yellow Bells

Garden Bird Statue

“To plant a garden is to believe in the future.”

Garden Statue Home

Stargazer Lily


“Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1844

White Snap Dragon Bloom

“Flowers whisper “Beauty!” to the world, even as they fade, wilt, fall.” ~Dr. SunWolf

Mushroom Statue in the Garden

Fisherman and Son Garden Statues

“Count the garden by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall. Count your life with smiles and not the tears that roll.”

Moonflower: Worth the Wait

Moonflowers – they have been in my family for years. They bloom only at night and some of the blooms can be saucer size. If a full moon is out, these flowers absolutely glow. It’s incredible. They only last one night, then they droop down, until the bloom falls off. It’s kind of sad. They have their one night of glory.

My mom gave me Moonflowers many moons ago (heh). They were planted under the dining room window and bloomed beautifully for several seasons; until I moved from my garden oasis. I kept meaning to get more from her, but never had a spot that I wanted to cultivate at the rented duplex. I knew they would be left again, so why bother.

That’s why last year when I was admiring the many gorgeous blooms at Calloway’s, I notice a lone plant on a table. It had grayish green leaves that I recognized. The Moonflower. I could not BELIEVE it. I had never seen one at a plant store. My mom had them and my second mother-in-law had them. No one knew where they got theirs though. They just were. As far as my mom knew, she had dug them up from a railroad track. My second mother-in-law guessed her husband’s deceased wife had planted theirs. The night he died, every bud flowered. Every single one. So yes, I think she had planted them too.

Last year I planted it at Jason’s, outside the dining room window. The Calloway’s Moonflower grew and bloomed. It was beautiful. I almost killed it giving it TOO much love because I wanted it to do well, so badly. But I didn’t. It bloomed night after night. Then, as winter descended so it did too, into the ground to await spring. However, at springtime, I watched to see what would or wouldn’t come back. Anxiously awaiting the Moonflower, but there was no sign of it.

I was so disappointed! I had seen several large seed pods that went to ground and got rained on. They always came back, always, but it didn’t. No sign at all. Until…..late, late, late spring – well summer (especially in Texas). I saw the leaves and there she was. A baby of a thing, but growing.

I did my obsessive thing – willing it taller and stronger – almost killing it with Rosemary organic spray because some bug was chewing on its leaves. Apparently Moonflowers leaves get burned by Rosemary spray. Oops. I left it alone. I thought it was a goner, and there were no other budding plants in sight. I looked at Colloway’s for a replacement, but not one existed.

I grieved a little. Then a wondrous thing happened.

The plant I almost killed prevailed.

Buds grew.

A bloom appeared.

Awaiting nightfall with great anticipation.

Opening to the night.

Last night was my first Moonflower bloom of the year, and the reason for my feel good Friday post. I don’t know what it is about this flower that means so much to me, but it does. It’s my mom, it’s my step-father-in-law who was a tremendously sweet man, it’s the glowing moon that I adore. It’s the unique rareness. It’s the light in nights. It’s me. It’s my journey to start over. To grow again and again at a new place. To be found, to be treasured…….. to be home.

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Planting Seeds

I had the good ole black thumb growing up. I think my first plant my mom gave me to sacrifice was an african violet. The second plant my mom made walk the plank was a hanging spider plant. That one took a little longer to end its misery, but eventually I did.

Those two experiences told me and my avid gardener mother, I didn’t get the gene. As a grown up, I had plastic plants. A little dust never hurt anyone, that was until my second marriage. We moved to his mother’s house. She lived with her husband in a different house.

This residence may as well been the garden of Eden. There were so many flower beds, I felt sick to my stomach. A HUGE island with a pistachio tree, a back garden filled with day lilies, three other side gardens with irises, and lastly a large container bed under a newly built pergola.

It was enough to make a non-gardener want to cry. Luckily, here came my mother from Oklahoma to save me, to save the garden beds before I sent them off to meet their maker. She was patient with me, oh so very patient, and she showed me how to clean them out, divide the irises, and then PLANT new flowers.

She had all the confidence in the world of me. Lo and behold, they all grew. None died. The next year they multiplied. I even got brave and planted seeds myself, grew those in little pods and transferred them to my flower beds. To my delight, they grew too. I bought a trellis arch and had morning glories growing on each side and up. They bloomed every day, my little plants – I grew from seed.

Even the container under the pergola was filled with baby’s breath that spilled over in great glory. I had moon flowers, four o’clocks, rosemary, lavender, roses and sweet peas. It was an oasis. A surprise oasis. I was so proud.

When things fell apart, I had to leave my oasis. I left my effort, my hard work, and mostly my love – my beautiful garden.

When we moved into a new house, I did some gardening as well (nothing like before). Elephant ears, oleander, zinnia, mexican heather, and, again, had a gorgeous rose-bush. AGAIN, I had to leave it behind.

I’ve been in the new place two and half years. I have some container plants, but I never made garden beds. I didn’t see the point at a rental, I was sure to leave again.

I never had the strength or fortitude to start all over again. Until this year…..

I fell in love with Jason’s house and empty garden beds. My love was re-kindled. What a blessing it was to me. I toiled and planted with all the spirit I had before.

As winter approaches (well our winter anyway, which doesn’t count but still kills plants), I am remembering a spring of gardening, a summer of blooming.

I am remembering that in our world today, we are a lot like flowers. We are all different and unique. We grow at different rates. Some of us need more care than others. Some of us need protection from bugs and the world around us. Some of us are fragile and easily broken, but some of us are tough, long-lasting. Some of us will die and not return next year, but some will birth new shoots that grow taller and stronger than ever before. But mostly, we all just need love and care to thrive, and grow.

Jason’s gardens, 2009

Angel Begonia

Impatients and pink stain-glass coleus.

Cooper’s memorial stone, an angel statue that reminds me of Jason’s oldest daughter, more impatients.

My pride and joy – the moonflower. They only bloom at night.

Amazing in the moonlight.

The front bed. Calidiums and impatients.


We each have our own beauty to display. Our beauty may not be pleasing to everyone, but to some it will take their breath away.

Revel in your beauty today, shine through winter, bask in your moments before they are gone.

A flower’s appeal is in its contradictions – so delicate in form yet strong in fragrance, so small in size yet big in beauty, so short in life yet long on effect. ~Adabella Radici

Hope you enjoyed your garden walk as much as I did, live with long lasting effect.

Happy Friday!!

P.S. (I’m feeling like a fourth grader typing that) – I updated my photos on the About Me tab. New for November with some of my favorite photos.