“A garden should make you feel you’ve entered privileged space – a place not just set apart but reverberant – and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry.” – Michael Pollan
For those of you who may wonder what I do when I am not writing a blog post, I will tell you. Most often I can be found in the garden. Truly, I am completely over the moon about gorgeous flowers. The reason for my madness is simple – gardening is in my bones.
We all have things we love, obsess over, collect or perhaps hoard. I prefer to think we have inherited “genes of gorgeousness.” Clearly, no one obsesses over something they do not deem beautiful. So, today I thought I would share a wee bit of my story – a love affair and obsession with blooms.
My flower gene came to me via my grandmother and mother. Both lovers of the garden and flower worlds, but each were different. My grandmother’s love was roses, and she did grow some beauties. But my mother loved magnificent trees and flowering shrubs. Trees, such as Hemlock, Ginkgo and Golden Rain. And flowering shrubs, such as rhododendron, azaleas and spiraea. Mom also had a marvelous artistic talent, which came shinning through in her floral designs. Her designs won her many flower show awards and led her to become a National Flower Show Judge.
Because of these two extraordinary women, I melt when I see old garden roses, rhododendrons in bloom or a stunning floral arrangement. And, a June never passes that I don’t think of mom’s Golden Rain tree. However, like my grandmother and mother who each loved different things, I do also. I am what you might say a “crazy about what ever blooms,” kind of girl. Especially peonies. Oh my goodness, how I love peonies. Actually, I collect them and left over 200 different varieties in a former garden. Although, in addition to peonies, I have quite a list of other gorgeous blooming plants I can stand for hours and gaze upon. And, I must also confess, I am a little mad about Boxwood too.
But the point here today is, how I came by my passion. Quite simply, I inherited the “genes of gorgeousness” from my grandmother and mother. Truly, I wish I could tell you the joy it has given me my entire life. They passed to me a seed which has grown and bloomed profusely. To both of them, I am forever grateful.
Today, perhaps give some thought as to why your heart melts when you see a certain color, photos of a specific place on this earth, or glorious flowers in bloom. Then, think of a family member who was fond of the same things or places. Ah, yes we do inherit “genes of gorgeousness.” So, the next time you receive a gentle nudge as you gaze upon something you deem gorgeous – pay attention. You too, may have been passed a seed which is just waiting to grow.
Thanks for visiting. I hope you have enjoyed your “walk with me.”
Note: Before you leave today, be sure to check the Events section of the blog. It has been updated and there are lots of great things happening.
Photos: All photos are of my garden or from my garden. Photos taken by: M.S.Lambiotte
13 thoughts on “Come Walk With Me”
Awwww… love your thoughts today that our love for something is often passed along through our genes and to pay attention to what ‘genes of gorgeousness’ have been passed onto us. I especially enjoyed the specific contrast of how your grandmother loved roses and excelled in growing them, while your mom’s heart went more to trees and shrubs and arrangements. Both enjoying their beautiful pursuits each in their own special way. Lovely, Sandra … thank you!
Thank you for your kind words, Brenda. Happy that you enjoyed the post.
What lovely photos and thoughts, Sandra. My maternal grandmother could grow anything and she passed it along to my precious mom. I still enjoy my mom’s flowers even though she passed away ten years ago. I am so grateful that my 86 year old dad lives in their home and I see the hosta, roses, gardenias, and azaleas that she planted years ago!
Pam: How wonderful that you and your dad can still enjoy your mom’s plantings. I am sure your mom is pleased that you both do.
To love the flowers and the garden is to have a “sense of wonderment” and “joyfulness” in the small things in life that bring us such beauty and pleasure and only require us to love them and care for them.
How very special that you Sandra are the third generation of women in your family for have inherited the gardening gene! You are so lucky and so are we to have you share your love with us. Thank you.?
Louise: Thank you so much for your lovely and kind words. Yes, gardens bring us so much joy and connect us with like minded souls. Like – you and me.
So wonderful that you inherited the passion for flowers and gardening. Your gardens are so magnificent! I love it when you share them!
Your arbor is gorgeous! Just stunning. Your statuary is lovely, too.
I enjoyed reading about your mother and grandmother and feel a kinship with you as I share those same bonds.
I am glad to meet you from Gardens Galore party. Look forward to reading more of your posts. Come visit me as we have much in common.
Bonnie: So nice to meet you also. The Gardens Galore party has been a treat, as I always enjoy seeing other gardens and the vision of the gardeners.
Thank you for visiting me and your very kind words. I am off to visit you now and I know we will be special friends.
So beautiful! I too have an inherited gardening gene. In my case, it comes from my Dad. I think I’m addicted to flowers.
Joanna: Thanks so much for visiting me today and for taking the time to comment. Yes, I do understand your flower addiction, I suffer from it also. I know you are grateful to your Dad for giving you the love of the garden.
Sandra, I am so thrilled you were able to link-up this beautiful post at Gardens Galore. I hope you received my email about receiving the Iris!
Pam: Many, many thanks to you for your kindness and your help. We never forget those who have helped us along our way.
I did receive the email regarding the iris. I hope she will bring you years of enjoyment.
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