For someone who is supposed to love mucking around in the dirt, astrologically speaking, I am not really much of a gardener. A few containers around the deck are the most I’ve ever mustered. Mostly that’s been from necessity, due to places I’ve lived, but I have to confess, I’m more of an appreciator than a doer. If I had boxcars of money, I’d hire someone to work with me in designing something that was zone-friendly and natural, plus low-to-no maintenance, then just sit back and watch what happens. I like wildness and ‘habitat.’ That worked fine on an acreage up in the Alberta foothills, but now that I’m in a town, they cite you ($$) for “letting things go.” For a region that prides itself on the fall Monarch migration, they don’t even like you to plant milkweed.
Right now my back yard has some bedding areas with scraggly bushes and a lot of (blooming!) weeds. Some seeds blew in from wherever, and some have no doubt blown in from the bird feeder; I never planted those mini-sunflowers. I kind of like how things just do what they do. But it doesn’t look “pretty” and probably would not help keep up the “equity” of my property either. This is the third summer things have just gone to seed. As often happens when one moves into a new “character home,” there’s a whole list of more pressing things to that take up time and funds. When I do get around to fixing up those beds, I found the perfect plants I want to grow there. I want a black-and-white Edward Lear garden.
Proper botanical names of plants, top to bottom: 1) Piggiwiggia Pyramidalis 2) Bottlephorkia Spoonifolia 3) Phattfacia Stupenda 4) Manypeeplia Upsidownia 5) Pollybirdia Singularis.
Obviously, Lear was well ahead of his time, spelling “fat” as “phat.” My favorite is the Manypeeplia; I want a whole border of that. Anyway, if I can’t get these to grow where I live, I guess I’ll have to settle for some ordinary colorful stuff…you know, like roses and dahlias…
For more plant species, visit the Edward Lear Home Page
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.