Saturday, May 3, 2014

Revisiting An Old Friend In The Garden

Chronica Domus
 Finally, a way through to the peony 
Photo: Chronica Domus


I've been a naughty gardener and neglectful of my poor old white tree peony.  In the mad growth of the pink rose bushes, (unfortunately, the name escapes me), I've let them clamber and swallow up what was once a show stopper of a plant.  Just last weekend, I was wondering what on earth had happened to the peony.  It blooms magnificently and faithfully at this time of year, but not so this spring, or last come to think of it. Secateurs to the ready, I began the process of carefully snipping and cutting away at the roses until I found the thing. Poor old peony.  It was still there but barely, and gasping for breath.  I was shocked at its feeble size, reduced to a thin stick, with a few young leaves to crown it. One of the main woody stems had been dragged to the ground and pinned there by the ferocious ivy growing up the fence and now creeping along the ground.  It had done a cunningly murderous job of enveloping and suffocating the peony.  The evil ivy had to go, there was no doubt about it! Three hours later, having given the matter my rapt attention, I had barely made a dent grappling with the rope-like runners that had not only destroyed the peony but had also bound itself slyly around the base of the roses.  To add insult to injury, somehow an established blackberry cane had entangled itself into the mess.

Can you spot the pitiful peony?  
Photo: Chronica Domus


It was not all bad news in that lively corner of the garden.  An old friend was there too to keep me company in the form of a Japanese honeysuckle vine. I was given the creamy yellow honeysuckle as a gift from my dear friend John.

Chronica Domus
The first blossom on the Japanese jasmine
Photo: Chronica Domus


John was that rare breed of being that one may encounter in life if fortunate.  He was erudite, witty, creative, well-mannered, great fun and humble.  In short, an enchanting combination.  John did not have a garden but kept his small ground floor apartment's patio lush with containers bursting with healthy plant life.  It was a little oasis out there with something of interest in bloom throughout the year. John grew the honeysuckle in a trough but knew it would not thrive in such confined conditions. He generously gave it to me to see how well it would do in my garden.   I was not to know it at the time, but within a few short years of this gift, John was to shockingly die in a tragic accident. Each spring I am reminded of my dear friend as I catch the sweet fragrance wafting  from the blooms and carried by the gentle breezes.  I savored the first bloom of the year as I was at war with the ivy and it pleased me no end. The delicious smell was incredibly evocative and I was instantly reminded of the wonderful times my husband and I spent in John's cosmopolitan company sipping wine on his patio and partaking of his wonderful cooking.  Our fun and spirited discussions would often cross into the early hours of the morning.  I remember too a party John and I threw at my home for a mutual friend and his wife who were about to depart the country for a long-term job assignment in India.  John and I planned every detail; the food, the wines, the flowers, the guest list.  He promised to return the morning following the party to help put the house back together and deal with the aftermath.  Instead, looking not a little worse for wear and nursing the remnants of a lingering hangover, he appeared at my doorstep sporting his trademark wry smile, at noon.  After downing some strong coffee, we picked up exactly where we left off the evening prior and ended up relaxing on the sunny balcony, taking in the view, drinking the remainder of the chilled white wine and nibbling on leftovers, chatting and laughing as we relived the great success of the previous evening's festivities. Needless to say, I was left to clean up on my own after John departed for his home much later in the afternoon. What did I expect?  He was always so useless before noon and his first cup of coffee.

Chronica Domus
My friend John thriving in the garden
Photo: Chronica Domus


These honeyed memories of our friend John are what make the rambling honeysuckle my most sentimental and cherished plant.  It will uniquely insure his memory remains warmly with me for as long as it thrives and spreads in my little garden.  It has now been a dozen years since this jasmine left John's life and entered mine, and ten since his life ended.  As Voltaire wrote in the closing of his story Candide, "Let us cultivate our garden".  I take his words to be a metaphor for thoughtfully choosing to add elements of value to one's life and for pulling up the "weeds" which may sap one's strength and spirit.

Do you have an especially meaningful plant growing in your home or garden?  If not, consider sharing some seeds, a cutting, or even a small shrub or plant with your nearest and dearest friends and family members. The long-term rewards may surprise both you and the fortunate recipient for many years to come.

10 comments:

  1. What an utterly charming story and a lovely way to remember your much cherished friend. It is good that you have cleared the path for the peony, which is such a beautiful flower, much favoured in China too; perhaps where they came from (to Europe). We have planted trees in Scotland, (but no plaques!), but I have not revisted them since, a factor that is brought to my attention by the owner of the land on which they are planted - my old friend from school, who's eldest child is my God-daughter.

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    1. Hello Columnist,

      How wonderful that you are in a position to plant trees (sans plaques). You must visit them, and your friends, as you shall find those trees to be lovelier than on the day they were planted and will surely be a treasure trove of beauty for future generations.

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  2. Plants are such a wonderful way to remind us of people and events dear to our hearts. Unfortunately my life has been a constant move and I have left behind many a treasure, like the lilac bushes in Connecticut which should be coming to bloom later this month.. I have been in my present home for only three years but I have added to the garden everything that I have enjoyed in former homes. Peonies among them. They don't do as well here in Georgia as they need a couple of hard freezes to set the blooms; but this year...at least 16 bud in each plant. Thank you polar vortex. It almost killed the Confederate jasmin and gardenias but it sure gave some oomph to the old peonies.

    I do hope my daughter stays in this house for awhile for she will have plenty of memories of her mother and former homes when I am long gone. I would be honored to be cherished and remembered in the same way you have written about your friend John. What a beautiful story you have shared with us. He was lucky to have you as a friend.

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    1. Hello Lindaraxa,

      Thank you for your thought provoking comment. It now has me wondering what I would do if I were to one day move. So much of us goes into our gardens.

      I'm happy to read that your horrendous winter has provided a boost for your peonies. That is good news indeed!

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  3. Hello:

    We are so very touched by this post which serves as a joyous reminder of a very dear friend, John, about whom you write with very real love and affection. That he should no longer be with you is so very sad for the world needs such people. But, of course, his spirit lives on. You are reminded of him through the flowering of the honeysuckle but that, in truth, is simply a prompt for he is clearly not forgotten at any time.

    During our gardening years, where peonies remained one of our all time favourite perennials, we would often fail to remember the correct name of a plant but never the person who had given it to us. In such ways are associations kept alive.

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    1. Hello Hattatts,

      Indeed, as you have written in your very kind comment, the world needs such people as John. From everything you've revealed of yourselves, I am certain that John would have adored wallowing in your company.

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  4. The plants that live among us earn a place in our hearts as members of our family. We care for them, and are comforted by them, they decorate our lives and we toil for their well-being. Your honeysuckle is a perfect way to memorialize a cherished friendship
    I am determined to read your beautiful blog at bedtime only as your gorgeous garden pictures inspire me to cast aside all my appointments and head to the nursery.

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  5. Hello Bebe,

    Thank you so much for your thoughtful and very kind comment. Indeed, you exhibit the signs of a true gardener if you are willing to partake of desultory excursions into the garden and drop everything for it. It can be quite addicting at times.

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  6. Loved the description of your friend - we all need frivolous amusing people to remind us to drink wine in the aftermath of a party...

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  7. ELS, John would have given Dionysus a run for his money. Even today, we always toast him whenever we break into a particularly tasty wine and think how much John would have enjoyed it too.

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