I bought a plant yesterday at the farmers market a Solanum Jasminoides Aurea, says the label, which I could barely find any information about on the internets probably because it might be more often referred to as Solanum Jasminoides Variegata, that took a while. Then I went and checked again the zone information for Mamaroneck which is somewhere between a 6 and a 7, I forget, I have to go back to this article that reminds me that it might be more a 7. Which doesn't help because Variegata needs zone 9 maybe 8.
Anyways all this left brain activity made me parched for something completely the opposite so I dug up a couple of photos from Wave Hill last year and messed with it. Flowers lost all their botanical names- they just became little impressionistic dots, the zoneless weather is caught eternally between hazy sunshine and dreamy mist. That's better.
In fact, I really have to keep all this in perspective, yes I must compost, sow more seeds, remember to prune the phlox and the sedum in the coming weeks but, I mustn't forget to sit back, squint my eyes blur all the colors and sort of do nothing at all- especially anything that resembles a chore. That's what i really like about gardening, the pointless impractical daydreaming part that I squeeze in between the practical bits.
I'm not alone, this early report on the Chelsea Flower show confirms that ethereal charm and magic and mystery are essential trends. I'll drink to that, nothing better than a little whimsy and some poetry to balance all this talk of compost and vegetables.