Compared
to a bubble bath, a garden catalog in winter does as good a job
stimulating circulation. A ninety minute massage isn't a bad thing
either. Still and all, for a boost of happiness, a color page from a
nicely designed catalog can be a tonic. There are no pheromones
emanating from the page, at least I don't think there are. I wonder
if a scratch and sniff approach might help sales for some things
other than perfume? In any case we of the home gardening collective
are positively enchanted by the appearance of the gardening catalogs
that begin dribbling out in September and reach a rampaging flood
stage in January. It isn't as if there are forty acres in my back
yard that require filling. Most of my little space is already taken
with an array of plants, placed by trial and error to maximize visual
effect and survival. Oh yes, that is a huge element of gardening and
one that beginners don't often realize. Those lushly populated
designs are the result of many failures from which the gardener has
taken lessons and adjusted accordingly. It is true that professional
training is a workaround to this but many gardeners are of the
do-it-yourself stripe and have not the nerve nor the time to take
master gardener classes.
For
those of us who dream of warm sunny days blessed with once weekly
rain showers, the catalogs are enabling and I don't entirely mean
that in a negative and psychologically dependent way. The failures of
the last year's season are past, albeit trenchant, memories by now.
Months ago we put away our mud-caked trowels and worn out gloves with
the firm commitment to do better next time, and
voilà
here come the catalogs to help encourage us on our path of
righteousness and fulfillment. And what ever happened to the good old
spelling of catalogue? That was how I learned the word and why has it
devolved to the stripped down form of today? And what about advisor
versus adviser? I am
just wondering aloud. These changes seem basic to the language and
they are happening in the short span of my life. Let us not cling to
the past without cause.
Back
to catalogs, those previews of coming attractions soon to be in a
yard or garden near you. There are some items that are always
highlighted as newly developed variations which catch the eye
instantly, especially if they are in categories where one has a
longstanding interest. You can bet that the plant breeders have good
reason to cultivate new varieties. It means big money these days.
Echinacea is a group that has fairly exploded in fireworks
colors, as have the shade-loving hellebores, known
as the Lenten rose, in its own demure way. Dahlias
and buddleias are
also favorites which continue to offer summer colors of extraordinary
brilliance. The old guard of roses and lilacs still please with new
offerings, but the most astounding growth in selection probably lies
with the hydrangeas.
You really can get quite an education from the best listings that are
not stingy on information. Just looking at all these idealized
versions offers an optimistic hint of opportunity to sally forth
again, after the winter debris has been raked away, and renew
acquaintance with the rich sensory rewards of actual gardening. I'll
be ready. Maybe a new outfit is in order!
Biggest
Warm Hugs, Celeste