Tulips – Gardens For Goldens

Mama Always Said

Mama always said you cannot pair orange and pink. She was wrong.

The apricot and pink tulips in the Memorial Garden are a stunning combination.

The birds know…

spring has arrived. Our rose arbor is beautifully rebuilt, and the fruit trees are beginning to blossom.

What I wish Mama had told me was that the alpacas and goats – sent to new homes this winter after Jody’s passing – were the safety plan for the hibernating tortoises.

These beautiful, fifty-year-old creatures had been in Jody’s care for the past several years. When she could not care for them last summer, I looked after them with near daily runs of fresh fruit, greens, corn, and dunks in their pond.

One of their favorites: rose petals. There were four bushes in their enclosure – one for each tortoise. And I made sure that the petals were on weekend breakfast meals.

When they came to wake the tortoises and move them to a new home, they found them dead. I won’t go into it; the tale is too sad. Suffice to say that the hooves of the alpacas and goats protected against marauders. It was a heartbreaking discovery.

This weekend, I moved their roses to the Memorial Garden. I brought with them the four pieces of tortoise art including one heavy stone statue that had long ago lost its head. It was presumed lost but when I picked up the tortoise planter I found it had been stuffed deep inside there long ago. A little gorilla glue should take care of that. If only there were a fix for the dearly departed.

They will be remembered here.

On a happier note: an update on Jody’s garden. A team did come together and in two weeks, amazing progress has been made. The weeds have been beaten back, the raised beds cleared, and the orchard restored. With the jungle cleared, I was able to trace the irrigation system and reset the timers. There is more to do, but we are on the way.

It will be up to the team to determine what to plant: a vegetable gardener – I am not. We will look to donate the surplus to a local food pantry. A small offering of goodwill to the community that has been so supportive of us.

We’ll need that continued support as we are presently swimming in dogs! The expected impact from the pandemic has arrived and their faces are not just Golden, but red, white, brown, black and spotted. Hopefully, we will not see a return to the last recession years when we were taking in 800 dogs a year. But our welcome mat is out and we have LOTS of waiting families.

Spring Tuning

There is a magical moment, just before the orchestra begins, when the oboe gives a note and the instruments are tuned in a chaotic staccato of strings, horns and reeds. A short, breathless pause follows as the conductor raises the wand – before a symphony explodes in synchronized waves of sound. The gardener knows this as early spring.

A tulip appears,

then an iris,

an apple blossom,

and tiny Clematis buds unwind –

as if the whole garden is standing tall and ready – preparing to come alive.

We are firmly in that magical period of early spring now.

The heart can literally skip a beat in anticipation –if only the back didn’t ache from the thought of the overwhelming work ahead! Roses and fruit trees to be fed – weeds to be pulled – lawns to be seeded – paths restored – mulch laid. The list is endless. But attacked with joy.

“Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.” ~ Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

There is another sign of early spring – even more miraculous. More to come.

Mac-aroni’s Going Home Day

You don’t have to look at the garden to know that winter is giving way to spring. You can sense it.

You don’t have to envision the flowers and trees in bloom. You can smell them.

You don’t have to behold the sun to know that it is shining. You can experience its warmth.

You don’t have to observe the birds to know their delight in fresh worms and tiny buds. You can hear them.

And 10-year-old blind Mac-aroni does not need to see the love of his new mom on their going home day.

He can feel it.

Congratulations and happy life, sweet boy!

Of Gardens and Rescue Dogs

What a garden needs is time,

patience,

love,

nurturing,

hope,

and room to grow.

What a rescue dog needs…

time,

patience,

nurturing,

hope,

and room to grow.

“One of the greatest virtues of gardening is this perpetual renewal of youth and spring, of promise of flower and fruit that can always be read in the open book of the garden, by those with an eye to see, and a mind to understand.” ~ E.A. Bowles

The greatest virtues of rescue dogs are the same.

Nature Finds A Way

Given that our Memorial Garden was under water just a week ago, I was surprised and amazed to find it beginning to bud and bloom.

It seems impossible that the bulbs, plants and trees survived submersion for so long and still pushed forward to beckon spring.

Mother Nature is nothing if not persistent. She has her limits, mind you, but a plant’s purpose is to go forth and produce the leaves from which it feeds and seeds it sows to ensure its future.

“The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground.” ~ Author Unknown

Nature finds a way.

It’s an important reminder. When obstacles block our path and threaten what we believe to be right, fair, and true to our purpose – like nature – we need to adapt until we find our way beyond the barrier.

It means taking collective and personal responsibility, even when the going is tough.

It means standing up for what is right.

Life is full of impediments and hurdles – persistence and personal responsibility are the tools required to clear them.

“You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself.” ~ Jim Rohn

We can find a way.

What’s Blooming in the Garden

Tulips

Hyacinth

Ceanothus

Lavatera

Anemone

Love. ❤

Something to Dream On

“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.” ~ A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

With a brief, but welcome rain this week, followed by unseasonably warm temperatures, the garden truly came to life.

I should stop saying “unseasonably warm” and just get accustomed to it. Those who don’t believe in climate change surely are not gardeners.

Sarah is back; returned from a year of hard labor on the graveyard/weekend shift at work. We have missed her in the garden.

I love getting to the garden early before everyone else arrives. It’s my chance to survey and see what has newly popped up,

begun to blossom,

or made its way into the garden beds thanks to those mischievous elves.

This is my time to take a few photos,

and to enjoy the company of the garden creatures; nesting Killdeer…

worm-hunting Robins…

sleepy lizards…

and rare yellow ducks.

My solitude is broken by the play of puppies in the adjacent yard…

and dog walkers – not just passing through – but stopping to sit and play now that the weather is warm.

“You have to give people something to dream on.” ~ Jimi Hendrix

We give you the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden in spring.

Wordless Wednesday: Tulips

The Garden as teacher

After a year of working in the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden, I have – to my amazement – become a more patient gardener. I walk right past the impulse buy tables in the garden store.

Tempting as they are, I now favor these young divides –

trusting that they will grow into stronger, healthier plants that will shoot forth year after year.

This season, I will even experiment with seeds – something I never had the patience for before.

The gardeners and I have watched and learned what works and what doesn’t. Plant in mounds to avoid drowning in the winter rains…

Don’t cut back until after all frosts; it is colder in the country and our little friends need their cover…

And tulips belong in pots, well out of bunny reach!

Last year was all about planning and planting; this season is about waiting.

Including sitting out this Killdeer’s brood; 3-4 weeks incubation time after the last egg is laid. Her nest is so well-known to us that we leave it marked with a little statue for her return each year. No digging here for at least three more weeks, yet she allows us to walk within a couple of feet of her without too much fuss.

“A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust.”~ Gertrude Jekyll