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Patience Grows in the Garden

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Patience grows as we garden It is something every gardener experiences in their lifetime.

Patience can be found in a simple bulb, plump tuber, or visually barren pot. This act of faith and perseverance is key to the gardens we dream about during the off-season. How much does it take to endure waiting for the promise of beauty? In my case, it started with a few peony roots I found in my garden room.

I’m in the mood to purge, simply because I have to (sounds like a song, right?) I want to make my garden room pretty – even if it is part of the laundry room. I have a water source nearby and if I make a mess, I can quickly mop or sweep. This is where I found a long-forgotten stash of bulbs, corms, and roots. The package information had faded, but I knew it had peony roots. As I soaked them in fish emulsion, there was hope these peony roots might have a bit of life stored within.

Peony roots exercised extreme patience in my garden room.

On a chilly September afternoon, I planted the roots, while saying a special prayer of forgiveness. Perhaps these roots would sprout and grow – forgiving me in the process. A mild winter allowed me to keep watch on the space where I tucked the roots into the fertile ground. When I noticed the burgundy points emerging from the ground, I smiled. Now to exercise patience, as I anticipate future blooms.

A Cercis canadensis or Redbud, has practiced the act of patience with me. I am enamored with all redbud trees. There is a catch – you have to plant them. I purchased this tree two years ago. At the time, I also bought my sister one. In her yard, this tree has captured the attention of her neighbors due to the beautiful blooms and leaves. Fortunately, mine…has been waiting for me to find the right place.

Patience might allow this Redbud to grow and thrive.

I checked on this tree throughout the winter. I wondered if it would thrive or even bloom. The other day, I saw a small flash of color at the base of the trunk. I apologized to this tree for not making time to plant her. There was also a tearful thank you for her patience with me. She might struggle, but I will be there for her – just like she was for me.

Sometimes overwintered plants in pots encourage us to give up hope. Stems sticking up, nothing visible at the onset of spring. Observing each pot, I often wonder if I should simply dump it in a low lying spot or be patient. That was my initial feeling as I gazed upon this Clematis in a pot . It was purchased to grace my arbor on the side of the house. Then one day, even though the stems were brown and brittle in appearance, I saw life emerging from a node.

Exercising patience with this Clematis in a pot truly brought me joy.

Whether you plant a corm, tuber, or bulb, there is always hope they will evolve into a healthy plant. The perennials found at the garden center last fall might still be in their pots. I hope you placed them close to the house for winter protection. Casually take a peek at them as the days become longer and brighter. Perhaps the warmth of the seasonal sun will awaken them when the time is right.

Practicing patience can often be difficult. When the wait is over, the beauty, found in the garden, lets us know, that it is worth it. Go outside and watch the garden come to life. It will not happen all at once. Spring is like a budding romance. Take it slow, exercise patience, adapt to the small imperfections, and attempt to resolve any issues. If necessary, alter the landscape (so to speak).

I am exercising patience as I wait for all the friends I planted in my sunny front yard garden. There is also a sense of thankfulness for my garden. You see, my garden exercised patience with me. I happily anticipate the gifts it will share over time.

Teri, Cottage in the Court

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Grounding – Rituals of the Garden

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Grounding is a ritual which calms the spirit allowing one to be present in the moment.

Grounding is an act of connecting with the earth for many people who garden. This is a ritual I have practiced for years. I was introduced to the act of grounding, while living in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Much needed peace and healing , was discovered in my garden, with a bit of advice from Miss Maude. My world was changing, and I needed sage advice. An older gardener I knew, Miss Maude, befriended me at a Central Rappahannock Master Gardener event. A fast friendship developed and she shared a secret with me.

One day Miss Maude could sense my unsettled spirit. Holding my hands, she offered words of wisdom andadvice. “Teri, I want you to try something. When you feel unbalanced, unsure, or sad, go into your garden. Take off your shoes, allowing your feet to have direct contact with the soil. Stand still, empty your mind, and be open to receiving positive thoughts. Notice the feeling of the earth beneath your feet. Allow yourself to be present in the moment. Do this in the morning, to see how you feel.” Little did I know, the art of grounding would change my life.

Honestly, I assumed Miss Maude was having a moment. I am certain that most people have a seasoned person in their life who offers a bit of advice. Sometimes this advice might seem a little cutting edge or unrealistic. We often use the advice as a tool to say – ok…old wives tale. I am not sure why Miss Maude’s words seemed different on this particular day.

Contemplation Corner was what I called an area in my Virginia garden where I had privacy and found peace. Every morning after putting my daughters on the bus, I wandered to this sacred space and began my grounding ritual. I stood under the large overhanging oak tree and took my shoes off. My non-judgmental audience consisted of the emerging Hosta, Begonias, and Epimedium, quietly watching this act of being in the moment. The release of inner doubt and anxiety disappeared. Miss Maude had prescribed a dose of wisdom from the ancestors.

She explained this was a common ritual amongst farmers and gardeners back in the days of her youth. The Elders would use this practice to stay connected with the land, to pray for a successful garden, and to calm their inner spirit. It is a way of being present with the earth. Grounding helps with self-awareness and a balanced approach to life – with many ups and downs.

My experience with grounding has been life-altering. Now I live and garden in Maryland. It was important for me to create a space specifically for a grounding ritual in my garden. Choosing a spot near my beloved Camellias, seemed to be the perfect place for this intentional ritual. In the summer, I often find a quiet, off the beaten path beach. Strolling on the sand allows me to feel the coolness between my toes and under the soles of my feet. In the winter, I merely place my hands on the earth. This ritual helps me weather any storm that blows my way. There is always somewhere to subject my hands on bare earth or to touch a grassy spot. Embracing the art of grounding, allows me to receive the day with an open mind. Accepting the newness of each moment is a gift.

Is grounding a common ritual in your garden? I encourage every Gardener to create a sacred space, in a quiet area of the garden, bare the soles of your feet (or your hands), and be present in the moment. If you aren’t a gardener, consider the art of grounding. It just might becme a ritual in your life.

Perhaps a moment of grounding by each of us can un-tilt this tilted world.

Miss Maude is one who I miss dearly. Sitting in her garden, soaking up the wisdom she imparted with every visit. I cherish the gift she unknowingly shared at a vvery imprtant time oin my life. The powerful gift of grounding continues to be a part of my life.

Grounding with intention, as I anticipate our next season.

Teri, Cottage in the Court

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Mr. Jefferson and the Cherry Blossoms – A Little Known Story

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Mr. Jefferson often goes unnoticed at this time of the year. However his work with the Cherry Blossoms is something we all should remember.

Mr. Jefferson is not just another native Washingtonian. The Mr. Jefferson I
want to share with you is an African American and a botanist. One who we are
proud of particularly at this time of the year. Our Mr. Jefferson was an
International authority on certain flowering cherry trees. Not many people are
aware of his work. These famous Cherry trees attract tourism to the Nation’s
Capital each spring. As a native Washingtonian, I am so proud to share a little
knowledge about Mr. Jefferson.

Roland Maurice Jefferson graduated from Howard University with a Bachelor of
Science degree in Botany. Finding work in any field for an African American man
in those days, was a little hard. Mr. Jefferson was eager to use his education
in a professional setting. It was the United States Arboretum which opened
their doors to this young man. Mr. Jefferson seized the opportunity to show a
dedication to his botanical skills in addition to a good work ethic.

In any field, starting out in “junior” positions is a common
practice. Having a degree in Botany, he was hired to make labels. Well, Roland
made labels the best way he knew how. He even created labels in metal so they
would last longer. Noticing his determination to make a difference, the United
States Arboretum made the conscientious decision to promote Mr. Jefferson.
Finally, his job title was Botanist. Imagine in 1957 being the first African
American Botanist for the US Arboretum. As an only child, Mr. Jefferson knew
that he had to be the best in whatever he chose to pursue.

We have all begun to realize, that history has not shared enough of the
African American experience in many professions. I am a native Washingtonian.
Sadly, I cannot say there was any mention of Roland on the school field trips
to see the Cherry Blossoms. Our teachers shared limited information on the back
story of the trees and their care. We knew they were a gift, and a tourist
attraction. Many school age children have witnessed this African American man’s
story and never knew it. How many children never realized that a favorite topic
of study is the seed which can become a profession, simply by continuing their
education??

Do you know how many untold number of hours Roland invested writing about
our favored Cherry Trees? He wrote a book, “The
Japanese Flowering Cherry Trees of Washington, DC: A Living Symbol of
Friendship“.

In 1976, the year I graduated from senior high school, Mr. Jefferson
recognized the Cherry trees were in trouble. Botanists are trained to recognize
signs of decline on many things we grow. Taking over one hundred cuttings
allowed Mr. Jefferson to propagate seedlings of the original cherry trees.
Today we are enjoying the offspring of the original trees. As an avid tree
lover, I could not be more thankful for the efforts of this man. I like to
think Mr. Jefferson was just showing off his skills.

The conversation of the African-American experience in horticulture, generally
involves sharecropping. For many people, George Washington Carver is the
ultimate beginning and end of the conversation. Botany provided Roland the
opportunity of a lifetime. I imagine there are more African Americans who have
made a difference in horticulture. We need to unearth and share these stories
all year long – not just in February.

The handiwork of this Botanist can be seen around the world. From his many
seed swaps throughout Europe, Japan Korea and Taiwan, his legacy lives on.
Roland made sure we have a diverse selection of Cherry trees to choose from for
any setting. Much of the research we use today for Flowering Cherry trees
evolve from Mr. Jefferson’s work.

This gentleman Botanist donated his papers to the National Arboretum once he
retired. Even though he is no longer with us on earth, I bet he is observing
his handiwork with a smile.

This year, the Cherry Blossoms will bloom early. Perhaps our changes in
temperature and zone are the reason. In any case, the tourists are coming
anytime between now and March 23, 2024. There National Cherry Blossom Festival
will officially begin on March 20th – April 14th.

Thank you Mr. Jefferson for taking the time to be alert, attentive, and
aware of the perils the Cherry Trees were facing. Your actions made it possible
for future generations to enjoy springtime in DC and the Cherry Blossoms.

Dreaming of the Cherry Blossoms signaling the start of a new season,

Teri, Cottage in the Court

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Anemone coronaria- Strength in a Winter Bloom

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Anemone coronaria is not a common flower when one considers winter blooming plants. Intrigued with the noticeable swelling pod to this morning’s delightful bloom, I simply had to share.

My infatuation with Anemone happened when I noticed a peculiar pod in a planter sitting on the front stoop. Longing for a brief winter in anticipation of finishing a specific garden project, I began to watch this quiet metamorphosis in a forgotten pot.

Finally – much to my surprise, it slowly began a striptease of sorts. Petal by petal, this bud opened and brought a smile to my face every time I passed it by. This Anemone was a guaranteed smile anytime I could catch a glimpse of it during the daylight hours. I found myself longing for the weekends so I could see this gift from Mother Nature.

January weather is often unpredictable. If we get snow, it usually happens the third week of the month. Of course, the third week was is also the much anticipated long weekend. The weather forecast was promising what I thought would be the death of my sacred Anemone. We finally received a dose of snow. As I shoveled the front stop, my sacred bloom was no longer visible.

If the bloom did not survive the snow, it would have been a sad moment. I’m glad I took the time to capture this unexpected Anemone bloom in photographs. As gardeners, we know how the garden is in a consistent state of change. The bud or bloom you see in the morning will most likely be different by nightfall. The act of change or transition in the garden is familiar to every gardener.

It is almost February. In five days or so, I will see more growth on the bulbs in the ground. The potted pansies will raise their little heads and the foliage of the potted Heuchera villosa, will still be the bright spot as winter lingers.

Today, most of the snow has departed leaving most gardens with the task of absorbing the moisture left behind. It is 61 degrees in my Zone 7b garden – in January. Mother Nature knows when the time is right for certain plants to demonstrate their strength. Today, I lowered my eyes and my Anemone was returning the gaze. As our eyes met, we shared a smile.

On a warm, but gray day in January, Anemone coronaria is showing all who care to notice her. The strength and ability to ward off the chilly snow filled days and still bloom is the reward for a bit of patience. I now remember that in a moment of sorting seeds, corms, and bulbs in preparation for the 2023 seed swap, planting was better than disposing of them. This particular planter had pansies last Spring and vinca last summer. It feels great knowing this Anemone chose this year to show her strengths, especially having endured soil disruption. Anemone sown from corm or bareroot, have a few basic requirements. This plant needs to have some type of cold stratification, good drainage, sun/sun-part shade, and above all – patience. Anemone needs to settle in for a few seasons before it decides to bloom.

I am so glad time did not allow me to cut this lone bloom for a vase indoors. The opportunity for me to enjoy this Anemone in her natural element is something I am glad to see firsthand. The forth Saturday of January has been National Seed Swap Day since 2006 when Kathy Jentz, Editor/Publisher of Washington Gardener Magazine created this day as an official signal for seed sowing season to begin. This Saturday many seed aficionados are sorting, labeling and preparing for a day of seed bliss with local seed-sharing events.

Are there special moments in your garden when you expect nothing in the bleakness of winter? What surprises have you enjoyed from Mother Nature? Are you attending a Seed Swap or Exchange any time soon??

Now that our days are brighter a little longer, I can enjoy my Anemone first thing in the morning, as well as the evening. With the warmer than average temps, sitting on my front stoop with Precious, peering at my Anemone, will be quite meaningful.

Teri, Cottage in the Court

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Purple in the Garden of Life

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Purple in our life gardens can often be empowering. When intentionally included in an arrangement, it shares a sentiment of deep love.

Purple in the garden is revered and truly should not go unnoticed. Ever since I watched the original movie, The Color Purple, inspired me to include purple in my garden for what it represents. Many gardeners include this color for balance, harmony, or perhaps because a favored plant has a purple bloom. There are even a few native plants that bloom at what seems like the right time to make a quiet, yet impactful statement. In the latest edition of The Color Purple, the flowers in the landscape have created quite a stir.

I love Celie and all the weeds she encountered throughout her fictional existence. Many women can identify with Celie from events encountered along this journey called life. The book is fiction, yet there are instances where art truly imitates life. In a recent Smithsonian presentation, Miss Celie’s Garden & the Botany of ‘The Color Purple’ with Cola B. Tawkin, the discussion of what kind of flower was growing in the field in the movie, The Color Purple. Most gardeners would see that it is a field of Cosmos. I am a dreamer and would consider a meaningful alternative if the movie was non-fiction. What purple plant is a hardy perennial that would show its resistance to often unbearable conditions?

I could not stop thinking about the period of this movie and how African Americans had a frugal existence. Remember that for many African Americans, there was no money to purchase or time to plant ornamental seeds. Any intentional planting would have been for food and profit. I began to think about native perennial plants that happen to be purple and their significance. The annual Cosmos was the plant featured in the fields, however, everyone knows that a strong African American woman does not have the characteristics of an annual.

COSMOS

Cosmos is such an easy plant to grow. In the ground or a pot, grow Cosmos to enjoy outdoors or in a vase.

For the non-plant folks, Cosmos is an annual. This means in many areas of the country, it starts from seed sown in spring. Cosmos has a long repeat bloom time during the heat of the summer through the middle of autumn. In the warmer zones, when the seed heads are allowed to dry on the stem and fall, this plant will self-sow.

The petals found on the blooms are known to be quite orderly, and uniform. Even with the delicate appearance, the blooms and leaves grace the wire-like stems with a sense of wildness. This randomness of the Cosmos is always appreciated in the meadow and the garden border. Did you know the color of each Cosmos bloom is interpreted differently when used in arrangements?

As I researched the meaning of the name Cosmos, one of the consistent words used in defining it was harmony, joy, love, and balance. In most photos of the young sisters together, there is a field of Cosmos. I could see the joy and the love between the two girls. Nettie and Celie are happy in a world that is balanced between the good and the ugly. Celie and Nettie exhibited unshakeable love. Pregnant while young, her children are given away by her father, who gave her away to a man without her consent. Miss Celie demonstrated the strength of the human spirit even when Mister sent her away for dismissing his advances. Instead of wilting, she quietly became stronger and more resilient.

Yet Celie nor her sister are not annual flowers. I knew there was a flower that I would reflect their strength and presence in each other’s lives. The Native Aster came to mind.

ASTER novae-belgii

Purple and yellow Asters share the vase as a tribute to The Color Purple.

Why the Aster is a question some might ask. The folklore behind the Aster would make it a choice. The Aster evolved from a sentiment of sorrow. Astraea, a mythological, Greek goddess, was not happy. She felt there was a lack of stars at night and cried. As her tears fell to the ground, each one turned into a purple flower, according to the tale. These purple flowers are what we know as Asters. There are other versions of this including Virgo scattering stardust that settled and became purple flowers and more. Mythology tends to romanticize many things. Aster is the Greek word for a star.

The purple Aster symbolizes royalty, wisdom, love, and faith. Observing the characters evolve throughout the movie, each of these virtues becomes evident. With each season, the character’s cycles of life experience the highs and lows that happen with these virtues. Why not imagine that if this were non-fiction, it would be a field of Asters?

This strong flower has endured over time. They often grow three to six feet with stems that stand tall in meadows, moist areas, and full sun. Returning every year, Asters attracts a wealth of birds, bees, and butterflies. A wonderful food source late in the season, Asters spread by rhizomes, and some cultivars spread by seed, naturally.

Asters stand tall in the garden and thrive in less-than-perfect conditions. In my zone 7b garden, I cut the stems of my Asters in half at the end of June. I cut the stems at the rear of the patch, so I have blooms that are just beginning when the front half completes its bloom cycle. These purple blooms are a testament to the strength and dependability of this plant no matter what the temperatures or rainfall were throughout the season.

Celie loved her sister and never gave up on seeing her again. Usually, love between sisters is a commitment to just being in each other’s lives – no matter what. Our life experiences make us wiser as we age and many of us stand on our faith to get us through the roughest of times.

Whether it is Cosmos or Aster, The Color Purple displays meaningful life metaphors that are different for each person. Did you know that Cosmos is in the Asteraceae family? Yes indeed! Its starlike appearance is not just another pretty face in the world of horticulture. While strikingly gorgeous on the surface, it has a deeper quality…like most women.

Celebrating Purple in a Bouquet

I am so glad I saw this movie on the day after Christmas. Creating bouquets with meaning is my way of showing my daughters – Johanna and Thea – how much I love them. To honor this movie, I wanted to create memorable bouquets with a message. I included Lisianthus Select Purple, Yellow Carnations, and Yellow Roses, with a few fillers such as Ruscus and Hypericum. Aster Monarch Purple and Aster Golden Glory added purple and gold, mimicking my late summer garden.

Each of these flowers has a love theme either by cultivar or color. One might symbolize love. Another might represent positivity, strength, or joy. Each of these plants reflects deep-rooted friendships.

The Color Purple is a book and movie that has different meanings for each of us. I have enjoyed watching it with my daughters many times. There are instances we encounter in real life and as we laugh or cry, we say “That is a Color Purple moment”. As we embrace the presence of a new Color Purple movie, I anticipate more conversations with my daughters as we discuss how art imitates life in ways that we never imagined.

If you want to try growing a purple perennial in your garden, here are a few that are easy to find – Salvia, Geraniums, Liatris, Phlox, or Verbena bonariensis. These plants are generally dependable and are noticeable whether short or tall. Many of these plants attract pollinators. When you see the dance of the pollinators by incorporating one or two of these in the garden, you will see how purple is transformative and adds life to the garden.

I think I will intentionally add a patch of Cosmos…pinkish purple perhaps…to honor Miss Celie. Miss Celie will grace my garden this summer by including a gathering of Cosmos. In the fall, I know the Asters will bloom again representing the strength found within.

Thinking about sisterhood…

Teri, Cottage in the Court (NOT AI-generated)

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