Lessons from a Rose


Antonia, May Day, Amsterdam, 1976
Those of us who are parents know that the greatest treasure we shall ever tend, prune, feed and nurture are our children. No doubt. My (still forthcoming) book Plant Whatever Brings You Joy is dedicated to Antonia, the most precious flower in my garden.

So you will understand me when I tell you how amazing it’s going to be, that after living her life at the south end of a very tall state of California for ten years, Antonia is returning to Northern California, to her roots, to grad school, and to further growth and expansion. Wow! So yesterday I was both charmed and touched when she posted the following and I promptly asked her if I might include as a Guest Post. She generously agreed. (Thank you, Antonia, precious girl!)

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For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life.

~William Blake~

I was on my way out of the market, purchases made in preparation for the feast I would make that night, when I saw the little rose plant. I had wanted to place something Lovely on the table, but hadn’t seen any cut flowers which spoke to me. No. This was far better, as I could watch it grow, instead of having to toss it in the trash in a few days time. And, it was so cute, in its little metal bucket! ๐Ÿ˜€ I Loved it! I picked out a sweet, rosy red coloured plant and headed back to the checkout counter, completely oblivious to the Wonderful lessons this dear little life form would impart upon me.

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The first revelation occurred a month or two after its purchase. Happily settled into its place in the sunny kitchen window, my little rose plant was blossoming Beautifully! I was enjoying cooking for a friend, who gazed upon the plant, and remarked upon its two blooms, “This one is doing better than this one.” Hmmmm… While I understood what he was saying, as one bloom appeared to have more Life left in it than the other, I suddenly understood the circle of life in a whole new way. If all is a circle, than how can one point in the circle be any better than another point? Does God/Goddess/Source see a diamond as Better than a pebble? I’m venturing to guess not. All is equal, Beautiful and Perfect, right?

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Life is a child playing around your feet, a tool you hold firmly in your grip, a bench you sit down upon in the evening, in your garden.

~Jean Anouilh~

I have such an appreciation for babies! Don’t you just Love baby energy? They are so new and fresh and have not forgotten who they are, nor been tainted by misconstrued human thinking. ๐Ÿ˜‰ *giggle* And, I so admire and respect crones, for the Beautiful Wisdom they carry and Lovingly share. Is one Better than the other? Of course not! ‘Tis all just part of the circle of what is, has been and all~ways will be.

Einstein told us that energy can be neither created nor destroyed, so I do wonder how death of the life energy within can come to an end. Perhaps all life really does end where it begins, begins where it ends and reincarnation is just eternity in slices?

In nature the life-death-rebirth cycle is clear as we watch flash fires ignited by lightning level the prairies. It may appear that all life is gone, lost to the ravages of flame and smoke, but within days, tiny green shoots begin to poke above the surface of the soil. Mother Earth has cleared the land for new life. Even in my garden I sense the seasons and the cycle of life-death-life. Perennials planted in my yard years ago go through their seasonal life span: a new green shoot, a blooming tulip, soon gone, but the bulb below the soil holds all the necessary ingredients for repeating the cycle again next spring.

~Kathleen A. Brehony~

The second lesson my little rose plant taught me occurred in the past few weeks. I had departed for a Holiday visit to my BeLoved Northern California and my rose plant did not fare very well while I was gone. Uhhh ohhh! Upon my return I discovered that there was very little left of my plant; there were no buds, or even leaves, only a few little branches sticking up from the dirt. Well, it is Winter after all, and surely, like the barren trees outdoors, the energy is building beneath ground, ready to burst forth in Spring, right? I had meant to transplant the little darling and now seemed the perfect time to do so.

I chose a soup bowl which, with its chipped bottom, was no longer going to grace the table, but with the words “Fleurs de Paris” across the side, seemed ideal for my little rose. I placed rocks in the bottom to ensure drainage and chose to use organic dirt (lesson learned from my herb pot date last spring! hehe). I gave my rose some water, placed it in a new sunny location and waited. Wow!! It Thrived! Quickly! Lovely! Lovely! I knew there was Life in her! She just needed proper room for growth! ๐Ÿ˜‰ Perhaps a combination of some winter’s rest, and transplantation? And, as I am about to embark upon my 44th move, it felt like a Gorgeous reminder of how being in the right environment with room for growth can allow for blossoming. ๐Ÿ™‚

Isn’t she Lovely?

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The best use of life is to spend it for something that outlasts life.

~William James~

Love and blessings,
Kathryn and Antonia xoxoxo

In Search of Spring (Still)

Granted this insatiable quest for spring (echoed in antsy gardening blogs around the globe, I might add) is fueled undoubtedly by weeks of warm dry weather. Not a drop of rain. So of course I got my hopes up, shoving my guilt to the back of the room, knowing in my heart of hearts we desperately needed the rain as neighbors began predicting water rations and the inevitable parched lawns. But having arrived at one of heaven’s many doors last week in the heathers at Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, I continued my search and who’s to blame me? Little did I know that the “worst” Arctic-fed storms of the season were about to embark on their journey through Northern California and that I would be left in jaw-dropping awe this week as snow levels dropped to the lowest I’d ever seen them, leaving the local hills reminding one of, say, Colorado, rather than California. (That mars one pictures, doesn’t it?) Armed with optimism I nevertheless went about like a soldier in search of spring, so who’s to say what season I am in? Maybe my own. And this is not a bad metaphor for the times I feel obliged to say. Here’s what I found.

Aww, the worthy and loyal crocus. Dave says these crocuses were out front when he bought his house in the 50’s and they have reliably come up every single year with no fuss whatsoever. What a great investment and what a treasure, no? And no wonder I’d think spring so close with these blossoming in a long row just next door! In any case, they have my attention and I’m banking on spring by their presence. (What are you hanging on to at the moment?)

And, of course, there was so very much more. (One simply has to look, right?)

A lovely plum

One of my very very favorites, the acacia. (I seriously considered naming Antonia Acacia before she was born. I really did.)

This moss did not reinforce the notion of spring but it certainly caught my attention!


Good morning, pretty daffodil! Thank you for your beauty.

Having satisfied myself that spring was afoot in my own immediate world I ventured out to my dear friend Conny’s garden to see what was emerging there. Lucky me, Milli was on hand to greet me and keep me company. Hi, dear Milli!

I have loved her from the moment I met her and am so grateful to have her in my life.

Off we go.

This garden might be a bit further behind in what is opening, but the beauty abounds.

Coral bark maple, so aptly named and gorgeous in the rain!

Something coming up here! They look like tulips, don’t they? I’m sure they are!

Cute little rosehips. Good they are in Conny’s garden and not mine. I’d have drunk them all by now as tea. They are such a good source of Vitamin C!

Having thoroughly comforted myself that spring is reliably just around the corner I head off to a favorite cafe and snuggle up in a big chair and warm myself by the fire. Yes, life is well and good and happening. Deep gratitude there.

Love and garden blessings!
Kathryn xoxo

Rainy Day at Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens

Had I been mindful of the weatherman I would never have ventured out into a rainy day on the coast this week. But Spirit was very clear: you are going to the Botanical Gardens, today. OK, then! Donning gear I headed out to Ft. Bragg. I parked next to this rippled pond and went into a very empty entrance.
A very nice woman named Marian, most likely not expecting anyone on such a gloomy wet day, emerged from a side office to greet me. When I told her I’d come to do a shoot she offered, “Well, you know, the rhodies aren’t quite here yet. Maybe March or April.” I smiled. “I’m sure there’s something here! I saw lots of things blooming out front! I bet there’s enough out there for a post!” Marian was not looking convinced. “Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “It will stop raining, I’m sure.” I gathered my things and headed out into the increasing drizzle. In retrospect what ensued over the next half hour or so really did resemble one of those marvelous giveaways you hear about on tv where someone has half an hour to put all the groceries they want in the shopping cart, for free!
Picture me, near starving for color after a frozen winterscape, knowing the clouds are going to come crashing down on me and my camera, with an ever so brief window in which to catch all the best the gardens had to offer, beginning of February. No time to find out what anything was. Just time enough to capture, capture, capture the beauty of my surroundings, snap, snap, snap. Yes, that! Ohhh, that! Oh, yes, THAT! Beauty. Beauty. Beauty. How’d I do?

Beginning in front, as I’d suggested (I knew it was a treasure mine!).

My mind is going, “What am I looking at? What am I looking at??” I will rely on you to tell me. (No, there was not time to read the little sign! It’s raining!)

I was almost breathless looking at these magnolia buds, anticipating what the whole tree would look like, oh, say, in a month?

Thankfully, this single flower was gracious and kind enough to open prior to my arrival so we could all have a blessed sneak peek! It’s enough to make you swoon, isn’t it?

I look at these impressionistic pinks and say, “Were they moving? Was I?”

Satisfied I’m off to a good start I pass through an entryway into the back area where the ample gardens are in their glory. Here’s a very brief look at what I first saw.

Mind you, these gardens go waaay back and include a cliff house, a small private cemetery, a vegetable garden, a rose garden, a pine forest, a Mediterranean garden, and trail after beautiful inviting trail. (You can bet I will be documenting poco a poco!)

My winter eyes immediately were drawn to this fanciful chair!

And at that very moment the rain stopped! Oh, thank you, Rain Gods, for showing mercy on a humble gardening blogger anxious to share your garden bounty with her readers! Run!

Not quite sure where I am or where I’m going, and never one to use a map, I turn to the left and see this.

I have two simultaneous thoughts. One is remembering Marian saying, “Well, there are some heathers…” so I think these must be the heathers, never seeing in my life anything beyond those poor representations in supermarkets at the wrong time of year, and the other is my mind saying, “There is a sign! Take a picture of the sign! Someone will care!” So I did it for you, whoever you are.

And that’s probably as much naming as you will get out of me on this journey, my dears. But who cares? We have discovered The Heathers! Look at this!

It is only beginning to dawn on me at this moment what I have stepped into, but in the minutes that followed I found myself awash in mystical beauty.


Stepping back, just a bit, here was the most stunning spectacle I found before me. Darlings, when the time comes, you know, that inevitable moment, to cross to the Other Side, may they just bury me among the heathers and let my soul reside in heather glory forever. Amen.

A path emerged and I wended my way back towards the front.

(The heathers are lovely, lively, deep but I have promises to keep.)

Emerging, more glorious images were there to be seen and caught and shared.

the golden bush…

the precious tiny fuschia…

this bench, oh so inviting in summer sun, I’m sure…

the rhodies, hinting of what will be opening in spring, when I return!

Finding this gorgeous water feature I was just about filled up, as you can imagine.

Next time I will be employing one of those wagons to take home some personal treasures for my garden. Today I am fully enriched with all that I was blessed to find. On a rainy (unlikely) day.
Thank you, Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens. We look forward to our return!

Love and garden blessings,
Kathryn xoxo

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