It’s all
hard, dirty work, battling insects, diagnosing diseases, dealing with erratic
weather, and chasing critters. That’s what gardening must seem like to those without
a hint of digital green, so I suppose it’s no surprise when someone tells me they
just don’t get it. Like many who feel that way, they like a garden to look
nice, in a vague sort of way — mainly tidy, I guess, but that’s as far as it
goes.
So what is
the attraction? I have a hard time explaining. I try the whole being connected
with nature thing, hands in the soil feeling the energy of the earth beneath,
yet the thought of dirty hands elicits only a frown.
But what
about a beautifully landscaped garden that incorporates all the features that
are designed to appeal to one’s sense of aesthetics — the winding pathways,
subtly balanced colours, sculpted trees and shrubs mirrored in still pools? Makes
it hard to hang out washing, they say, not that many still do.
Consider the
fragrances that waft across the patio on a warm summer evening. People spend a fortune on being fragrant, but are not heavenly scents produced in a
garden equally attractive? No, I suppose a spray can is more reliable and convenient, even if it is filled with questionable chemicals. And yes, for some, a
steak sizzling on the barbecue trumps lavender any day.
Then what
about the salad that goes with the steak; surely there’s nothing finer than a
freshly picked tomato? Red and round, they’re all the same, says the one with
dead taste buds.
See what I’m
up against? But for those who have discovered gardening and the joy it brings,
despite the dirty hands and all the challenges a gardener must face, you know
it’s all worthwhile. I know I do, for all the reasons above, and more. I enjoy
all aspects, but one in particular always inspires me and that’s the art. Not
the art of design, at least not the gardener’s, but that of plants and flowers.
To stop and
smell the roses is as relevant as ever, but when I remember to slow down and
actually look at things closely, intensely, there’s a whole world of artistry
that isn’t immediately apparent, especially if the bifocals are sitting in the
house.
This is when I recall my favourite garden quote by Sally Carrighar, one I should inscribe on the fence as a reminder: “The important thing is to know this flower, look at its colour until its blueness becomes as real as a keynote of music”. To this I’d add a reminder to observe artful intricacy of design.
This is when I recall my favourite garden quote by Sally Carrighar, one I should inscribe on the fence as a reminder: “The important thing is to know this flower, look at its colour until its blueness becomes as real as a keynote of music”. To this I’d add a reminder to observe artful intricacy of design.
There are many reasons for the variety of colours and forms
taken by flowers and foliage, though I doubt any were originally designed to
look appealing to a human perspective — insects mainly — yet we are the
beneficiaries of these amazing works of art, many of which inspired the great
masters.
Take a closer look at some of the flowers in your garden and
you’ll be endlessly fascinated. Take the African daisy, or Osteospermum. It’s a
genus of annual plants popular in bedding schemes and there are numerous
hybrids and cultivars in a wide range of lively colours. Sun lovers and easy to
grow, I have them in flower beds and in containers.
Most are daisy-like, some double, but one in particular always catches my eye thanks to the unique design of its petals. They radiate out in a perfect circle, each one resembling a tiny spoon. I stop, I look, I smile, then I shake my head at this miniature work of art. It’s just one of the reasons to “get” gardening.
Most are daisy-like, some double, but one in particular always catches my eye thanks to the unique design of its petals. They radiate out in a perfect circle, each one resembling a tiny spoon. I stop, I look, I smile, then I shake my head at this miniature work of art. It’s just one of the reasons to “get” gardening.