Tuesday, 24 August 2010

Togetherness



When I moved this Hypericum, also known as Rose of Sharon, from one place to another in the garden, I was unaware that a handful of crocosmia corms had hidden themselves in the clump of earth surrounding the shrub's roots. 

The result was a ready-made bouquet of flowers, the plain, daisy-shaped, lemon yellow/egg yoke yellow of the hypericum's flowers and the dramatic, orangey yellow shapes of the crocosmia flowers go beautifully together.

Both plants are very common and on their own hardly worth a second look.

Hypericum and Crocosmia


I love it when things come together.
Don't you?

Alone, we are nothing,
We are ordinary, everyday clay,
 not "the stuff that dreams are made on".

But put us together,
and we are twice as strong,
twice as beautiful, 
we give and take twice as much pleasure in 
simply being alive.

Side by side,
hand in hand,
a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved,
but
a pleasure shared is a pleasure doubled.





25 comments:

  1. A good example of nature's 'two for one' special offer!

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  2. A 'happy accident', as my grandmother (a keen gardener) used to say. What a show!

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  3. Buy one and get one free! I love your poem too, Friko!

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  4. Your gardening is visceral and imaginative,
    but your poetry reveals a window into
    one of your secret chambers, where you
    are wife, mother, and friend.

    Normally I would not presume to place
    one of my own poems on your comments
    page, but there is one I now am moved
    to share:

    Pilgrim
     
    I grew up gypsy-wild,
    my father changing jobs
    like he changed shirts.
    Schools, friends, neighborhoods were
    a panorama of mental postcards,
    flashing past my merry-go-round
    in a constant stream of imagery.
     
    Home was just a word, an illusion,
    used flippantly, sounding hollow,
    like saying love
    when you meant lust.
    Home was just a place, a feeling
    that I witnessed in others,
    not something within my
    personal dominion, so
    I just looked at my city,
    Seattle, as home;
    the place I was reared,
    a seven-hilled city by the Sound—
    even though it was
    like pointing to a great hotel
    and speaking
    of the 40 apartments
    I had lived in.
     
    I found myself spending time
    residing in the vast halls
    of my imagination,
    haunting movie houses, libraries, parks,
    finding solace in the memory
    of past lives and past homes.
     
    One day I noticed by parents were gone,
    the familiar landmarks had changed,
    my friends had swapped faces
    so often I could hardly recognize
    any of them. I wandered for a time
    naked, solitary, vulnerable,
    chasing ghosts and shredded memories.
     
    But I was lucky.
    A tall woman waltzed into my life
    twenty years ago and miraculously
    decided to grow old with me.
    We drew up our contract
    with the State and with God,
     and soon became the twin occupants
    of a two-headed love beast,
    and together grew into one
    complete organism.
     
    Finally
    the word home
    and the word love
    inhabit common ground
    midst the limitless confines
    of that golden beast—
    and it feels like home
    every time
    I hold my wife’s heart.
     
    Glenn Buttkus  
     
     
     

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  5. By the by, Friko, you can consider yourself
    as Muse, for now you can find me as
    #102 on Magpie28, coming into this
    challenge at the last gasp. Thanks for
    the link and the invite.

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  6. Perfect. I like the way you were able to convey you happiness at this serendipity. I planted one crocosomia and it immediately died after blooming. What did I do wrong?

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  7. Wonderful lesson conveyed through nature and an astute poet.

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  8. BOGOF gardening, for sure.

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  9. That's so time saving to plant a bouquet. Rose of Shannon must not grow well in cold climates. I tried twice but no go. Lovely meaningful poem.

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  10. Beautiful colors. And what a nice surprise.

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  11. 'a pleasure shared is a pleasure doubled'.
    Amen! And your pleasures take us back to the real.

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  12. You make beauty!




    Warm Aloha from Waikiki :)

    Comfort Spiral

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  13. The flower combo makes a wonderful show and I enjoyed your words - they are so true.

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  14. Oh Happenstance Happystance!
    Lovely, lovely words as bonus!
    XO
    WWW

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  15. Friko, I'm also reminded that we all look best in the midst of others who are different, and we people, like flowers, should appreciate our special attributes.

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  16. You couldn't have planned a better display. Nature has a great eye.
    Loved your words "a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved,
    but
    a pleasure shared is a pleasure doubled.
    How true.

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  17. Everyone else, it seems, has said whatever I could have said - only better. What stands out for me is your pleasure in your work and nature's. No gardener could ask for greater satisfaction.

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  18. Quite a few have gone for the BOGOFF option, but I didn't even have to buy them! They came free and gratis!

    Glenn Buttkuss - thank you for the poem, I don't mind at all that you have reproduced it here in its entirety. It is very good, but the end is the best. Lang may your happy twosome last.

    Tabor - crocosmias (or montbretias, as they were called) survive anywhere. In fact, they are very hard to get rid of. I can't understand why yours didn't take.

    Manzanita - Rose of Sharon grows anywhere too, another one of the workhorses in the garden. Try again, it is fully hardy.

    Thank you all very much for your encouragement, bloggers are nice people, all of them kind and well disposed towards each other.

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  19. friko - the photographs are really lovely - i am rescuing my gardens a little bit at a time and there are occasional serendipitous discoveries to be made. i like that nature throws things in that are equally lovely. the poem is among your finest. steven

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  20. And how wonderful that you celebrate the resulting display rather than bemoaning what could have been seen as a muddle. Thank you. And Yes, I think it is beautiful too!

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  21. Lovely--the common made uncommon.

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  22. Despite the Spanish saying , "mejor solo que mal acompaƱado " (better on your own than with the wrong person) , I think you're right .
    There's something very cosy about a shared memory .

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  23. Glad I came to this late, or I might not have seen the Spanish quote of S&S, which I agree completely with.
    However, I also agree with you, dear Gardening Friko, in that, when the twosome goes well together, it's quite lovely. I would love that particular ombination in either of my gardens. I would put it to MFB, but he always comes up with a million reasons why our French climate is a tough one.

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  24. Beautiful garden; beautiful sentiment; beautiful person.

    "...a pleasure shared is a pleasure doubled." Thank you for what you share.

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