One of the more somber holidays, which most of us seem to forget as we celebrate the unofficial start to the summer season, Memorial Day usually finds us departing Ogunquit after a nice long weekend by the sea. For the first time in almost 20 years, we skipped our pilgrimage there, and while we both missed it, we got to be home for the weekend, preparing the house for summer guests, and seeing the daily changes in the garden. In years past we always missed the first flush of peony blooms when we were away (of course this is the year they wait to open).
There are other things coming into their own at this time, such as the Chinese dogwood and Korean lilac. The ostrich ferns, almost fully unfurled, are also at the height of their glory – all freshness and chartreuse saturation. In myriad ways, this is the most beautiful the garden will get – when there are still glimpses of ground to set off the light green, and most of the plants still hold their flower buds tightly within, waiting for a longer stretch of heat and sunshine. It is the moment of hope for all that is to come.
Our pool is open, a breeze gently rustles the curtains of the patio, and in the beauty and the light of an American backyard, I offer gratitude and thanks to living in such a space of freedom. Let’s hope we can hang onto it.
Back to Blog
