Stopping to Smell the Flowers and Other Follies of Love...

If I seem distant and inattentive lately, dear blog readers, please forgive me. You have to understand something--my garden is blooming. And really, after years of wooing it with new seedlings, transplanting, dividing and generally fussing over it during moments I could wrestle free from travel for work--well, it is bestowing its considerable charms upon me. I mean, the garden has had points of loveliness in previous years, but this year it could break your heart with its sweet-smiling, winking and flirting beauty--so beautiful that I almost had to write it a love poem and send it a dozen roses (but are more flowers really the right gift to show your love to your garden? I wasn't sure so I settled for some weeding and a long cool drink of water straight from the hose.)

Are you still unconvinced of its intoxicating charms? Come, let me introduce you...

(white tango lily)

(crimson pixie lily)

(claire de lune clematis)

(ligularia with japanese ferns and lobed hosta)

(yellow tango lily)

(pink lilies with blackout lilies in background)

(jack-in-the-pulpit--or, voodoo lily as I prefer to refer to it)

(jackmanii clematis)

(casa blanca lily)

(turk's cap tiger lily)

See what I mean? How can I possily fail to resist? But, alas, my garden is fickle and its love is ever fleeting as summer wanes. So, I have to revel in it while I can--before it turns to withering leaves, dropping petals, and dying blooms. But for now, I have its lush love and charm and I am at its mercy. You understand, right?