Le Monde Végétal and the Green Embrace

Pardon my French, but it's simply the way things have to be for me nowadays. As I enter into a new phase of life, one post-illness (aka in remission), post-marriage as I knew it, and during which I must pick and choose what really matters to me now, and ever-will-be it seems, I have to explore things a bit more, things from my past and my present. From my past, I will always embrace and hold near and dear to my heart a love of language, culture, and the natural world around me. This is now being roughly sutured with my love of gardening since the gap between the two is the painful part that's hurt me the most, making my marriage into something it never should have been in the first place, and causing me great distress. I have to suture these things to help the healing. 

My language replacement during the rough years was Botanical Latin, with its many linguistic textures and tones. Yes, my pronunciation in this green world is terrible, but I've been told that's not uncommon by multilingual friends—especially in my situation with a memory that was often on the fritz. As long as I can see the name in my head, and spell it, I seem to be able to survive, and by that, I mean I can communicate. Speaking and being heard means the world to anyone who feels cut off from the rest of the society by the experience of illness. The isolation you feel is really quite incredible and it is more powerful than even I knew while in the midst of it. It changes you. 

So with all of this in mind, as I sit here eating leftover Cadbury Mini Eggs from Easter, I will get to the point of my post. 

Last week I participated in a little informal nursery tour with some plant friends. For them, it's become an annual little get-together before the craziness of the Hardy Plant Society Spring Sale. I was not sure how I'd feel about le monde végétal since my life is still very much up in the air, and sometimes I do want to sell the house and garden, but I gave it my all anyway, and it was worth the effort. 

Xera Plants

Agave gentryi 'Jaws'. 

Garrya topiary.

Ercilla volubile.

Primula auricula 'Dijon Blush'.

Potting gurney. 

Moss garden.

McMenamins: Kennedy School Garden Tour

Cistus Design Nursery

Aristolochia californica (red form).

Aristolochia californica (green or yellow form).

Loree aka Danger Garden (blogger friend) with an Agave—shocking!

Sean Hogan's feet, his dog, my feet, and the feet of one of our green friends on our little tour but I am not sure who they belong to still. 

I think this is a Podophyllum. 

Overall, the tours went very well, and I had a great time meeting new people. 

Adding to the excitement that day was the fact that just the day before, I'd sold the chair I'd been sitting immobile in for years, and it left this funny blank spot in the living room. Having space now to freely move around is making me wonder about all the space I'd filled in while I was still ill. While looking at plants, I started to think about throwing so many old plants out so that I could finally create a more clear design. Things seemed open and possible now, where they simply didn't before this. 

Buying a new iPhone has opened up more photography opportunities too, and I am seeing the natural world in all of its spacious glory. Editing and cleaning things out both internally and externally is opening up my world, but it is such a slow process. I feel like I can breathe now though, both in my own world, as well as out in the world I share with all of you.

Cherry trees in bloom on Mt. Tabor.

I think I can say now that Sean Hogan was correct weeks ago when he told me to accept and be embraced by the green world. It's just the medicine I needed for my transitional malady, and if ever you need to take this treatment too, I recommend it.