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| Hollyhocks - Frederick Carl Frieseke |
"As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them."
Henry Ward Beecher
I love this painting by Frederick Carl Frieseke and have a knock-off of it on canvas rolled away to be framed if I ever have enough wall space. Oh to have a garden like the one he painted!
Hollyhocks are a favorite of mine. At one time, a life-time ago, Hollyhocks bloomed over six feet tall in the back bed. Sadly they disappeared over time. Happily my huge rose bush with its tiny pink flowers took over the space years later.
Last summer when my picket fence went up, I had help picking out flowers to plant from a charming gentlemen who worked part-time as a garden consultant at my local hardware store. He planted a single Hollyhock on the outside of the fence, where it bordered the sidewalk. I thought that was a most unusual place to plant a Hollyhock, remembering the years past and the size of the plants in my back yard. I didn't question it. He was the master, I was dolling out a bit of change for his help.
It didn't grow much last year. I couldn't image how this runt of a plant would grow six feet tall. This year it was still short. I waited and wondered how I would ever see it bloom.
Then to my amazement, there were buds, and a week later, a blossom. It finally dawned on me this was some sort of a dwarf hollyhock! No wonder he planted it by the fence!
At this point I need to remind myself to ask more questions of others and to reiterate I am lucky my flowers grow at all in my yard with my lack of gardening knowledge.
But still . . . I have a Hollyhock by my picket fence. One stunning black blossom nods at me as I walk down to admire the flowers that continue to surprise me with their beauty and willpower to thrive!
Isn't that what life is all about . . the willpower to survive, to grow, and to bloom. Every day there is something that has left my garden and something new that is lovely to replace it.
I am learning what seasoned gardeners have known. There are lessons to be found digging in the dirt . . . I am coming at it late in life, but what a beautiful time to discover this.
I love this painting by Frederick Carl Frieseke and have a knock-off of it on canvas rolled away to be framed if I ever have enough wall space. Oh to have a garden like the one he painted!
Hollyhocks are a favorite of mine. At one time, a life-time ago, Hollyhocks bloomed over six feet tall in the back bed. Sadly they disappeared over time. Happily my huge rose bush with its tiny pink flowers took over the space years later.
Last summer when my picket fence went up, I had help picking out flowers to plant from a charming gentlemen who worked part-time as a garden consultant at my local hardware store. He planted a single Hollyhock on the outside of the fence, where it bordered the sidewalk. I thought that was a most unusual place to plant a Hollyhock, remembering the years past and the size of the plants in my back yard. I didn't question it. He was the master, I was dolling out a bit of change for his help.
It didn't grow much last year. I couldn't image how this runt of a plant would grow six feet tall. This year it was still short. I waited and wondered how I would ever see it bloom.
Then to my amazement, there were buds, and a week later, a blossom. It finally dawned on me this was some sort of a dwarf hollyhock! No wonder he planted it by the fence!
At this point I need to remind myself to ask more questions of others and to reiterate I am lucky my flowers grow at all in my yard with my lack of gardening knowledge.
But still . . . I have a Hollyhock by my picket fence. One stunning black blossom nods at me as I walk down to admire the flowers that continue to surprise me with their beauty and willpower to thrive!
Isn't that what life is all about . . the willpower to survive, to grow, and to bloom. Every day there is something that has left my garden and something new that is lovely to replace it.
I am learning what seasoned gardeners have known. There are lessons to be found digging in the dirt . . . I am coming at it late in life, but what a beautiful time to discover this.
