Playing with the multiple exposure function of my camera again; with a little more deliberation this time.
Three views of the same calendula flower.
It rained so hard during my over-night stop in Turangi that the hydrangea bucket was in danger of overflowing (never mind the river less than 100 metres from my room).
Despite (or maybe because) of the drenching, the plants looked much healthier in the morning and survived the journey home.
I’ve potted the smaller one. It looks a bit wonky with one large flower-head hanging off the side, but there is another, quite robust-looking stem growing straight.
Hydrangea One — the mother-plant — is still bucketed and seems to be doing fine. Now I just have to find a suitable space in the garden for her.
Posted to Friday Flowers
According to Culpepper’s English Physician and Complete Herbal, buckwheat also “provoketh urine, increaseth milk, and looseneth the belly.”
And to think, I just planted it to attract the bees.
One of the more unusual gardens included in the Taranaki Garden Festival was actually a cemetery — Te Henui Cemetery.
On the edge of New Plymouth’s CBD, Te Henui is the city’s oldest cemetery, with graves dating back to 1861. It occupies almost 10 hectares (24 acres) and is extensively planted with fruit and ornamental trees, while flower beds bring colour, texture and fragrance to the (mostly heritage) plots.
Large-scale maintenance is done by the council’s park’s’ staff, but the magnificent flower-plantings are entirely due to the efforts of a small group of volunteers.
I find cemeteries fascinating; sad and poignant, and full of glimpses into other people’s lives and families. Sadly, in New Zealand at least, I don’t often find them beautiful. Graves that are lovingly tended by partners and children quickly become neglected as generations pass on. Many of us don’t know even where our grandparents and other members of the wider whanau are buried, let alone have the ability to visit and care for their graves.
Through their wonderful gardening efforts, the volunteers at Te Henui are dissolving time and distance. The beautiful, tranquil, contemplative space that they maintain and watch over helps connect the present and the past, and remind us all of our humanity.
It hasn’t been much of a week for walking, so I was extra-grateful for the absence of rain yesterday morning. Not a long walk, but enough to see what is happening in the “street-of-beautifully-kept-gardens.”
Lots of the camellia flowers are gone — lost to the wind and rain. But the single rhododendron that I can photograph without actually trespassing is looking really good.
Regular Random is a photography project hosted by Desley at desleyjane pictures. There are two versions:
And since it’s Friday … #fridayflowers
Yuzu blossom and fruit bud. Image: Su Leslie 1019
The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum, and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world. — Michael Pollan