No, this isn't the first chapter of a romance novel. There is no ripping of bodices ( I had to go to Google to find out what a bodice was ). The only sound heard is not that of ripping but rather, perhaps, a soft sob of disappointment at the view of reality as opposed to the prior mind's eye image of hope. Seed catalogs are seductive, promising beauty beyond belief. Some of the entries are indeed a bit beyond belief. But gardeners are a gullible lot, never giving in to skepticism until actuality intrudes.
When the snow piles up outside during a cold northern winter and wind from some arctic region blows hard, a garden catalog is a gardener's opium ( Papaver somniferum not withstanding ). In this hazy delirium it is easy to cast aside caution and to succumb to the Siren's song. Who can resist putting checkmarks next to those glorious images that grace each page of that glossy collection of dreams? Each stroke of the pen helps dispel the frigid reality beating upon the windows. But alas, after germination and nurturing the seedlings through the winter, slowly hardening them off and awaiting the summer's surprise, lo and behold: a surprise.
The mass of close-packed flowers depicted on the page was merely the photographer's collection from many plants, brought together to provide a dream of plenty. The reality turned out to be rather smallish blooms, widely dispersed. Mostly empty space in that region of the bed. The delicate, wispy, thread-like leaves of the Cosmidium b. Phillipine are a green haze from a distance, getting more dense as the season progresses. Another dream unfulfilled.
The catalog depiction of the red-flowered perennial Potentilla was a photograph taken straight down to the flower. It was only after more than a year subsequent to germinating the seeds when the small flowers on long, thin stems high above the low growing leaves showed what a side view was. Not nearly as dramatic as the promise. Ah well, at least the leaves looked nice.
Is it possible that my soil and climate have inhibitors promoting dwarfism? Is my thumb deadly? Or is my eyesight failing, amplifying the catalog depiction and suppressing the actuality? Have I been seduced?
The Petunia was named misty lilac in the catalog. Sure
Go To Page: 1 2
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Howard Deutch's International Gardens topic, please visit the Discussions page.