This was Tulipa praestans 'Fuselier' in my garden today after Easter's merciful rain. Most reds tending towards orange get a high five in my book. But pictured tulip sports multiple blooms which counts mightily in this case.
I grew up in a very urban neighborhood long before planting was trendy. Our tiny front yard was in full shade, yet somehow, the few red tulips bulbs my mom planted managed to straggle up through the dirt (to call it soil would have been a stretch). Of course, shortly after opening, the bloom always disappeared either by human hand or critter stealth.
So now my red tulips enable me to relive my childhood garden memories with a positive outcome: wish it were all that simple.
How about you? Care to recount how you have managed to re-do garden history in your life?
3 comments:
I grew up in Brooklyn, with two squares of grass separated by a path leading up to the front porch. There were occasional flowers, but it was all maintained by a hired gardener. The back yard was concrete, great for games, but not for growing things. I knew gardens only from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. My interest in gardening came from spending time, when I was an adult, in the country (in order to paint 'from the motif') in the summer and having friends who were gardeners. I learned from them, from books, from trial and error. And now I love it and can't imagine living without gardens.
I was a small child during WWII and my father had a victory garden. But I wasn't allowed to cross the streets alone to get there. Our landlords had a marvelous garden in the backyard and I bought a package of radish seeds for 5 cents and asked Mr. Scotese if I could plant them. "NO!"
Since then, no garden until I came to Guatemala 17 years ago. Now I eat spinach, lettuce, chard, kale, collards, and all he herbs from my garden and .... yes, a few flowers!
YAY!!!!
Altoon & Deet, thanks for sharing!Interesting that less than ideal childhood garden experiences didn't determine your adult joy.
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