guest post: little brown pen.
nichole of little brown pen is bringing us some beautiful and Inspired Gardening today.
Every year it’s the same thing. Our spring trips to Paris result in hundreds of photos of vines and Wisteria. There’s something about the way the vibrant green and cool purple mingles with crumbling brick or old paint that seduces me into something just short of a state of worship. Much like the buildings of Paris, the vines seem to have been there forever, winding their way up past the windows and onto the roofs. The roofs I imagine as ground zero for summer trysts.
My wild imagination led me to believe that I, too, could be the proud owner of a lush, tangled garden in which to frolic this summer. This despite no real gardening experience and having lived in urban environments or apartments for the past 20 years. But romantic notions of cool summer breezes (and let’s face it: summer trysts) amid twisting vines motivated me to try.
I spent the spring stalking gardening sites, studying photos of vines, and scanning other people’s disasters and triumphs. After careful consideration (and second guessing), I purchased a few clematis, a climbing rose, nasturtiums, and a few other annuals in shades of purple for my 20 x 20 patio.
The planting and watering has matured into watching and obsessing, and each morning presents an opportunity to asses the vines’ progress (an inch, an inch!). The morning trip to my mini garden has become as integral as that first cup of coffee, and the evenings are just how I imagined them.
Do you garden? Is anyone out there as obsessed with watching a vine grow as me? Because really, I think my husband is starting to worry.
I have a Black-Eyed Susan plant that is climbing its small trellis at an alarming rate. I notoriously drown or choke most things that I plant so the persistence of this is impressive. I keep guiding its vines around the frame and so many new buds of appeared. I check each morning to see if another has opened. It’s a good day when I discover a new yellow flower.
Currently watching my tomato plants like a hawk adn was to be found dancing around the patio singing ‘a flower, a flower!’ – my husband worries about me too…
We had Wisterias on my family home as I grew up so I always hold them in a fond place within my heart. Great guest post, Nichole!
I always imagine how much work it takes to get such “nonchalance”. Then I roll over and go back to sleep. It looks so wonderful and peaceful, doesn’t it?
I love seeing wisteria when it’s draped over balconies and archways. Those Nasturtiums are going to be beautiful!
I have a garden and I fall in love with it every morning. I am patiently waiting on wildflowers and vegetables to get bigger and start to show off. I have been talking…yes, talking to the onions that have yet to show sprouts through the dirt. My nasturtiums are still quite tiny. They border my entire back yard. I love them that much!
I check the daily progress of my purple hyacinth bean vine, as it wraps its way up the trellis. I’m going on vacation next week, and I may suffer a little separation anxiety.
yes! i am! we are just started our first gardening. and i just always walk around to see if anything has gotten new leaves! my next step is to plant some vines, so this post is just what i needed! can you please share the gardening sites and blogs that helped you! i seem to not be able to find too many!!!
William Faulkner’s classic novel Absolom Absolom opens with the line: “It was a summer of wisteria.” and your lovely images reminded me of how beautiful they are!
honeydonthink – I love that novel! Thanks for reminding me.
esas hojitas redonditas de la penultima foto se llaman aca espuela de galán, a mi me parecen patitas de dinosaurio, como les dices tu?
I can only wish about taking spring trips to Paris each year! What a dream! I’ve always enjoyed your posts at your blog and this guest post is beautiful as well : ) Thanks for the inspiration!
girl, you are in good company.
almost 6 years ago i started to really get into my plants and it is totally an obsession.
just moved in with my boyfriend and upon arrival at the new address with over 4 truckloads of plants, he realized the extent of competition for my adoration.