a homestead stood.
The sad remains of my erstwhile pride and joy, my spring and
summer flwer beds.
Drought can be devastating, it took two thirds of my garden,
trees, shrubs and all my perennials.
The large expanse of cut, dry grass in front of the few remaining
espaliered fruit trees, once was my thriving berry patch. Raspberries,
strwberries, blueberries and currant bushed, the joy of marauding
grandchildren. Now there is nothing there, even the cherry trees died.
From fifty years of collecting oldfashioned plants, striking
cuttings from old gardens before the bulldozers moved in,
nothing remains. Even the succulents are in a sorry state.
Now, I am too frail to replant and create a new paradise around
us and yet you may wonder that I post roses galore, floweing
bulb and a few other hardy survivors.
The simple explanation is selective vision. The Prof sees wrecker's
yards and landscapes bristling with power lines, while I am
enchanted by a lone magnolia peeping over a fence or a single
sunflower in the rank grass near a block of flats. The choice is ours,
we see the beauty or the beast and so I choose to show you whatever
little joy has unfurled its petals for my delectation and always have
something, no matter how small, for my camera to capture.
Even weeds can be beautiful, let alone my remaining
roses in full flight!