We may remember the visual beauty and the contrast of colours; the sound the wind rustling leaves and branches and of the many small creatures who live and visit there; the varied textures of the foliage and flowers; the taste of new grown vegies; or, the strongest for me, the many and varied flower fragrances.
Small things take us back in time. I don’t really remember Aunty Vi but I do remember discovering the gorgeous freesias that grew beside the path up to her front door, lured by the heavenly scent that drifted around them, then the thrill of being allowed to pick a small bunch to take home. I think I was 3 or 4 at the time.
Similarly, of the grandmother who passed away when I was quite young, my strongest memories of her are the fragrance of the Daphne Odora that grew outside the Granny Flat where my grandparents lived for a while. From what I have heard, this was possibly one of her few gardening successes. It grew tall and strong and was covered in sweetly scented, delicate little flowers, beautiful little flowers that I picked on one occasion to use for a floral tribute for a small sparrow that passed away in our yard. OK, maybe I over-picked, I think my mother’s description was “stripped bare”, but I guess it grew again!
My other grandparents created a beautiful garden where ever they lived. My memories are of a birdbath feature with a lush garden bed set behind as a backdrop, often containing snap dragons, English daisies, pansies and other annuals. My practical grandfather grew vegies and I can still see the young beans ripe and ready for picking and remember eating them later for dinner. My nanna was more into decorative plants and usually found a place for a Chinese Lantern bush in each of her gardens.
I think Nanna is best known, though, for her luxurious Maidenhair ferns. She had an old double concrete washing tub simply crammed with these ferns, indeed they grew like weeds. She said her recipe for success was simple. Give them a cup of water every day and cut them right back at Christmas time every year.
They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery and of this I am shamelessly guilty. I have my own Daphne Odora (pictured above), a birdbath (below) graces my rose garden and the pink heads of my Chinese Lantern flowers dance gracefully in the breeze (pictured right).
I have a pot of old fashioned freesias that return to greet me every spring and although I’ve tried some of the new hybrid varieties, they fail to produce the same fragrance that is part and parcel with the old fashioned freesia.
In pride of place are a couple of pots of Maidenhair ferns, the daughters of a pot of ferns given to me long ago when Nanna divided her original washing tub ferns. I am still amazed that I have managed to keep these alive for so long, more than 25 years! Mine don't fill a large double washing tub, I guess I've downsized a little. No, I haven’t given them a cup of water every day. Luckily water-well pots were invented or I may not have had any ferns left to write about.
Although some of our special people are no longer with us, we can continue to think of them as we tend those plants that evoke the garden memories from our past.
Post Script:
This summer I divided my maidenhair ferns in much the same way as Nanna always did. I was delighted to be able to give a pot each to my mother and two aunts, who now also have a descendent from their mother's maidenhair ferns. It is a great feeling to be able to share your garden with others, and as you can see from the pic below, my own garden has not been diminished in any way by this.
 |
| February 2013 - my Maidenhair ferns |
No comments:
Post a Comment