Wednesday, September 12, 2012
continuous as the stars that shine
The first house we owned was a row house in Brooklyn. It was built in the mid-1800's and was 15 feet wide. When we bought it, our 15' x 50' back yard was what is known in Brooklyn as an Italian lawn--concrete. Eventually we had it sledge hammered away and we planted a sweet garden. Thinking about it is giving me incentive to learn to scan old photos, so I can show you. Anyway, it was then that I got my first White Flower Farm catalog, and ever since I've dreamed about The Works. Read the description--poetry, yes?
Enchanting as lichen is, and moss and ferns and seed pods, I love daffodils (and all other flowers). I'm considering this mixture of 100 daffodils and 20 hostas. I have the perfect place for it, and autumn weekends free for planting bulbs. The thought of seeing those daffodils in the spring might sustain me through the winter when "on my couch I lie/in vacant or in pensive mood" *. If I went to the nursery and tried to choose such a large quantity I would have a nervous breakdown. What do you think?
*William Wordsworth, Daffodils