Flowers as serendipity

Surprise!  Beauty awaits here, with or without admirers

One thing that's been nice in the new place is the flowers.  The yard was so overgrown, and the weeds so out of control by the time our friend's lawnmower was fixed, that we had no idea this rose existed.  The base was bigger once, and just one long dead stick and one not quite dead smaller stick stuck out of the ground.  Didn't know what they were, hadn't thought about it.  This rose budded and opened after the massive attack on the (sort of) lawn.  This spot isn't visible from the front entry, nor the back garden strip unless the currant bush is beaten back.

(That's another story.  This supposed currant bush was cut down to stubs the week before we took possession, and grew enough in three months to make the space almost impassible and eliminate the visual corridor, but it doesn't have currants on it.  We don't know what it is.)

A lot of our changes seem to have featured flowers.  I was sad to be removed before the cherry blossoms were out--I really missed the daily experience of going past the front door up or down the stairs, coming and going from home, or just stepping outside for a moment to drink in the sight.  And taking a daily walk, coming back around the corner towards home.  But it turned out that the sight of the whole block in bloom, delicately pink, was one of the enticements for the buyers.  They just fell in love with the spot, and we could tell them that the people were as lovely as the trees.

There were beautiful white flowering trees here, though, and a pair of camellia bushes on either side of the front door.  One of them branched around the exterior corner and joined the white branches of the shade tree.

View through the entry vestibule in April

Then, of course, the seemingly identical white-flowering tree behind us wasn't only about flowers after all.  The two trees' leaves looked the same, the flowers looked the same, they bloomed at the identical time--but the one behind us made apples.

One of the things I have enjoyed is the amount of light in this house.  The house runs back to front, and the side windows in the dining room and kitchen are large.  The corner nook in the back of the kitchen has windows on its two exterior sides.  The table is just the spot for flowers.

The lot to the side of us is vacant, and it's in bloom with sweetpeas.  Like the house behind us, it's owned by our lanlords.  We've enjoyed snipping some flowers, and when we watched their grounds maintenance guy come in and mow everything, I figured that was it for a while.

But lo and behold, they mowed around some of the groups of sweetpeas, and I went out and took advantage the next day.  There are climbing roses drooping across our fence, from under the trees, too, so I had those to add, though they're almost gone.

This isn't the very best floral composition I've been able to produce, but it's the one I thought to take a picture of.  The china pitcher was a wedding present, so many years ago, and it makes such a lovely vase for these.

A bowl of peaches, a vase of wildflowers--summer!

I was struck by the memory of Carole, three years old, who for a period would declare to any adult who asked her name, "My name is Carole, but my daddy calls me Sweetpea!"

We may not be in the same house, but we are still the same family with all our memories.  This one made me smile every time I walked through that room for the rest of the day.  Sweetpeas.  Love to all my sweeties, grown up and far away.