Moments of Solitude and Change

Today from about 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. I worked alone in the Prospect Gardens enjoying periods of solitude. Cut back more plants, weeded and transplanted a Blue False Indigo plant. False Indigo is a prairie plant with deep roots along with thick hard woody appendages that required an ax to break through. I received the original plant from Dianne, a neighbor.  Her front yard is a beautiful garden with Blue False Indigo.  An axe was also needed when digging up that original plant. I am somewhat optimistic that next spring Prospect Gardens will have two additional Blue Indigo plants with their deep blue flowers that appear during late spring.

My solitude was interpreted several times. Two women stopped to pick and enjoy a few of the remaining raspberries.  They continued their walk down the commuter path after expressing gratitude for the Gardens and the raspberries.  A father and his young daughter followed shortly after the women departed. I was working on the upper section on the Regent side of the Gardens.  I spotted several handfuls of raspberries waiting to be picked. I invited the girl to join me and told her how to find her way up to where I was working. She gently plucked the ripe raspberries into her cupped hands while I held the branches. Then she enjoyed her treat.

Four neighbors also stopped to chat. Richard and his wife were starting their walk along the path.  Ann was returning from the Edgewood College library with Ta-nehisi Coates' "Between the World and Me."   We agreed that the book was not a light read. While Ann and I were talking, Barb on her bike coasted to a stop. She was returning from visiting a friend and colleague whose husband is battling fourth stage brain cancer.  I mainly listened while Ann and Barb talked about the caretaking role and how to support Barb's friend.

After Ann and Barb left, I continued to work for about another hour enjoying the sunshine and the muted colors of the Gardens while being mindful of how life can suddenly change. Change, impermanence, and uncertainty are so part of our lives. The following five pictures capture the changes underway throughout the Gardens and the beauty of the final life cycle of the Garden's inhabitants.

Here's a seed head of a Purple Cone flower waiting to disperse or be a food source for birds. Note the muted colors in the background.

The light purple leaves are those of a miniature lilac bush. A neighbor donated the lilac. I really should move the lilac to a more sunny spot. This will take some effort and energy since the lilac is now bigger than when I first planted it several years ago.  Something to think about during early spring 2016.

The leaves of this hosta, once green, are turning a mellow yellow. I won't cut the hostas back because the leaves break down to a fine mesh. Less work for the gardeners. The Hosta Garden, under the trees on the Regent Side of the gardens has several different kinds of hostas, all donated by neighbors or friends of mine.

Can you guess this plant?  It's Bee Balm (Bergamot). I love the color and shape of the leaves. 

These Aguga, sprinkled with dried leaves, still have have their purple color.  They have turned into a deeper purple now that the growing season is ending. A final show of color before the deep frost and the arrival of cold winds followed by snow. Next spring they will appear once again for another season of life.