Flowers in the Snow

Although I seldom remember my nightly dreams upon waking, there was a period a few years back where I had a series of recurring, vivid dreams about gardens.

One such dream featured an overgrown, neglected rose garden that I would discover in the yard of a house that, in my dream, I was considering purchasing. The house was always different. Sometimes it was an eerie Victorian mansion, damp and ornate, but long-unoccupied--on the verge of collapse. Other times it was a suburban modular, plain and unappealing, also long-unoccupied but otherwise habitable. Several times it was one of the two houses I grew up in as a child.

In all cases, the thing that really piqued my interest was the garden. Dazzling, unusual flowers grew in an untamed tangle all around the house. Roses grew with wild abandon, canes rocketing out of the soil to reach dizzying heights. I always had to reach up and pull the opulent blooms down to smell them. I couldn't wait to lose myself in the garden, trimming and pruning and restoring order and the lost beauty of the original garden. In every dream, I had misgivings about the houses, but felt irresistably drawn to the mysterious, old, neglected gardens.

In another series of recurring dreams, I find myself walking in the snow. Suddenly, I come across a garden in full bloom. I'm stunned and marvel at the beautiful red tomatoes hanging on lush green vines and at scarlet poppies waving on prickly stems above a drift of white snow.

How does this happen? I wonder. What kind of gardener can make flowers bloom in the snow?

I wake feeling happy after these dreams, but I have no idea what they indicate about my psyche. Who dreams of flowers in the snow? What does it mean?

I carried a bouquet of dried flowers and seed pods outdoors for a photo today. I'm looking forward to planting lots of everlastings this spring. I like the idea of flowers that last all winter. I need flowers in the snow. Photo by JulenaJo.

Planning the Possibilities

Thoughts on January first seem to play about on all the possible ways to make the upcoming year more fulfilling than previous years. As a gardener, this means planning what to grow come spring. An idea I've been toying with is growing cut flowers and herbs for the local farmer's market that takes place every summer Saturday morning in our little community. To that end I've been compiling lists of flowers excellent for cutting and herbs that I think people might like to buy fresh. If I continue with my knitting and tatting, I'll offer the results of those handicrafts for sale, too, and my husband, the Gourd King, has dried gourds to sell. 2009 looks like a year where the economy necessitates earning whatever extra income one can, and what more fulfilling way to do so than gardening and handwork?
So far my list of cut flower seeds to buy includes (in no order): sunflowers, larkspur, cosmos, globe flower, daisies of all kinds, snapdragons, zinnias, strawflower, love-in-a-mist, baby's breath, and statice. Herbs I'm thinking of including are: lavender, blue balsam mint, basil, chives, cilantro, dill, fennel, rosemary, sage, tarragon and parsley. Just typing those lists fills me with happiness and eager anticipation of the 2009 growing season.
One of the daisies I know I'll be growing this year is shown above, a blue-eyed daisy, arctotis grandis. I'm not sure I can harvest and sell them as cut flowers as the blossoms close at night, but aren't they lovely? The reverse of the silvery white petals is pale blue and the foliage resembles dusty miller. I saved the seeds from last summer's plants so I can grow even more of them this year--even if I can't sell them. Some things a gardener just grows for the pure love and joy of it, you know? Just thinking of these beauties makes me smile. I can't wait for spring! Arctotis Grandis photo by JulenaJo.