I wait and watch every spring to see where the poppies will appear. No, not the Oriental Poppies (pictured) because as we all know, they come up from the same basal root year after year. This year they are putting on a spectacular show, and as a poppy lover I am just thrilled! I know this is not the first post I've written about my poppy joy, but I just can't help it. They don't last long, and they are so beautiful. It's a good thing I didn't have any children, because I am sure I would have named them "Poppy Joy", "Oriental Poppy", and/or "Opium".
That sense of excitement of not-knowing is only attributed to the "Breadseed Poppy", because those are the ones that come up from seed...here, there, or someplace else. And they are all about to open! I always find them coming up in my garden beds someplace different every year, and I like that because it is kind of crazy and not expected. I can remember back in 1994 (hey that's 20 years ago) when I made my first garden in Switzerland, it was so very neat and lovely with flowers all around the edges. Along with getting older and letting-go of so many things in my life (including that perfect order in my beds), I kind of let the garden have its own life, with me just giving water, some food, and some tilling (oh, I almost forgot the weeding part, which I call "yoga"). I just planted some blue bachelor button seeds in one of the beds, just because I love the color "blue".
There is one poppy coming up and about to open in the next day or so right under the chicken run. I don't know what color it will be, but how I love surprises! I saw it coming up under the flowering quince bush a few weeks ago and had to clip back some of the branches so that that one poppy will be able to get the sun it needs to open. I hope I can get a good shot of it with my camera, because I am sure you will want to see it as much as I do.
Already we are around 15 inches or so under the amount of rain of what we had last year at this time - so far so good. After last year's sad 70+ inches of rain, my gardener's heart almost broke in two, but once you have the experience of smelling the witch hazel, the lilac, the rose-scented daffodils, and the calycanthus after winter, and just seeing the flowers, the roses, the peonies, and then tasting the basil, the lettuces, the cucumbers, the parsley, the cilantro, the gooseberries, the raspberries, the swiss chard, the beets, the mints, the carrots, the roses, the peonies, and of course, the beloved tomato right off the vine, well, how could there not be a garden in my life, even if I get old and can't move very well. It is absolutely essential for me to anticipate joy in my daily life, and that is what a garden brings to me.
Seeing beauty in a flower could awaken humans, however briefly, to the beauty that is an essential part of their own innermost being, their true nature. The first recognition of beauty was one of the most significant events in the evolution of human consciousness. The feelings of joy and love are intrinsically connected to that recognition. Without fully realizing it, flowers would become for us an expression in form of that which is most high, most sacred, and ultimately formless within ourselves. Flowers, more fleeting, more ethereal, and more delicate than the plants out of which they emerged, would become like messengers from another realm, like a bridge between the world of physical forms and the formless. They not only had a scent that was delicate and pleasing to humans, but also brought a fragrance from the realm of spirit. Using the word ‘enlightenment’ in a wider sense than the conventionally accepted one, we could look upon flowers as the enlightenment of plants. -- “A New Earth” by Eckhart Tolle