GARDEN INSPIRATION I
step out the back door, down the stairs, and turn the corner into my garden. A green blur by the hanging fuchsia catches my eye. I stop for a moment, not wanting to frighten the hummingbird. It zooms past with an unmistakable deep buzz and I start walking again.
window box on the garage, breathing its sweet, fruity scent. Already I’m slowing down. Slowing my pace. Slowing my breathing. This garden ensures I leave behind the hurry. I’m grateful for its colorful jumble. It invites me to be present. Curious. Filled with wonder. As an artist, color always makes my heart leap. I see more
shades of green than I can count, a contrast to the rich, velvety purple of petunias. A pink blush of roses. Electric palette is unrestrained, just like the paint boxes in my studio chaos, but to me it’s joyful abundance. A thrift shop colander in hand, I wander. I use it to collect
tonight’s salad. I hear a robin laughing in the birch tree and I pick out the tiny peepings of grackle babies in the cedar bushes behind the fence. I notice a honey bee disappear me there’s movement and song.
Ingredients for my salad fall into my colander piece by
piece, like I’d compose the elements in a painting. Lush lettuce leaves. Frilly purple kale. Lobed arugula. Bright veined swiss their stems and add them to the colander with viola, borage, more and more colorful.
monarch caterpillars I discovered the other day still munching pricks her ears and leans over the wood of the raised bed thinking I’m talking to her. I scratch her wide head and point out the orange aphids. She’s not impressed. They don’t seem to be doing any harm, but I’ll have to keep an eye on them. At the parsley I greet some swallowtail caterpillars. “Oh look! There’s another one on the dill. Hello!” I carefully select a handful of parsley and a bit of dill, far from the caterpillars. Yes, some of the stems of my herbs are now bare, but
I’ve planted plenty for me and for them. Yes, there are holes caterpillars as I wash my greens. I always run them back I stop for a moment to bury my nose in one of the
Above: In my studio mixing and swatching paint to match plants and flowers collected in the garden. Top right: A monarch butterfly caterpillar and orange aphids enjoy butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa). Left: Salad ingredients become painting inspiration.
be battling Japanese beetles before too long and the sweet because of it. Unlike the caterpillars I cheer to see, the Japanese beetles and I don’t live in a comfortable leaves to lace. I grow organically, not wanting to harm the earth, its wild creatures, or my family. It means hand-picking the Japanese beetles and drowning them in soapy water.
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