In my daughter’s garden, sweet early summer flowers bloom…

lovely little blossoms of joy, so fresh and new.

Here, shimmering in the filtered sunlight, they dance in the breeze,

gaily spreading their wondrous charm

to all who pass their way.

Almost magical, they are perfect in form.

Enchanting, they call one back to beautiful memories of times past.

While on my visit to my daughter Ashley’s home this past week, I was struck by the beauty of her lovely perennials, bursting forth in lovely bloom… in her early June garden. In viewing the back yard of my daughter’s home, one is struck by the brilliant hues of purple and pink, in contrast with the bright green of the fresh new grass and the newly bloomed trees… a refreshing and inviting oasis of sensory splendor. A treat for the eyes, it is also a lovely retreat where song birds call to one another, flitting here and there amongst the trees. A lovely backdrop of green grass and large towering trees stretches across several acres. Surrounded  by nature’s beauty in its finest form, the pretty little flower garden humbly sits in its own special little spot, sweetly and simply… a special, charming treasure. This garden calls to me. In my mind, it feels much like an enchanted garden of the past. Having spotted a few of the flowers that bloomed in the yard of my childhood – in my mother’s garden – a part of me is transported back to that lovely place from long ago. And yes, perhaps this is why it feels enchanted to me… The Bleeding Heart plant calls me back the most of all – its sweet little pink heart blossoms bobbing up and down in the breeze… Yes, there in my memories I can clearly see that little plant blooming proudly behind my childhood home.   And the stately purple Iris, almost regal in its splendor… I can see once again in my mind where the Iris plants bloomed in the middle of the big back yard of my childhood.

I love that my grandchildren know all the names of these beautiful flowers as they proudly show me around the garden. I love that they show respect for these lovely living things. I tell them that their Great Grandmother grew these flowers in her garden as well, many years ago, when I was a little girl. And they ask her name… because they never knew her.

“Lydia”, I  say.

And they repeat her name… “Lydia”.

“Yes, your Great Grandmother Lydia grew these flowers in her garden many years ago… just as your Mommy grows them in her garden today.”

They listen. Then they run off to play, their laughter singing in the breeze…

Tears fill my eyes and I smile.

For here, in my daughter’s garden, beauty blooms and memories are made… again.

~ Carole Carter – words and photographs

~ Thank you to Ashley Weingart, my daughter, for her beautiful flower garden.