I came across this post from my life several years ago. We lived in a hundred year old home in the historic district of our town. Reading this brought back memories that I thought you might enjoy. I know I have pictures (somewhere) and I will share them (sometime). Enjoy!
My yard is a collection of memories. It reminds me of my childhood,
family, and dear friends. As Spring presents itself again, I remember…
The wisteria we dug from the riverbank creates an umbrella of fragrant
blossoms each Mother’s Day. The stone bench that sits underneath used to be a fireplace mantel in a field hand’s old house on the farm where my
husband grew up. Buttercups from my mother’s yard—so old she doesn't
remember who shared them with her.
Snowball bushes brought from the yard where I grew up are a pleasant
reminder of that time. The little dogwood seedling given to us by some
dear friends, was brought from the woods on their farm. Its branches
now cast shadows over the goldfish pond. The old rocks that Mr. Turner
(the caretaker of the Wheeler plantation) let us have to frame our pond,
remind my husband of the years his family lived on the Plantation as
sharecroppers. The English boxwoods are another treasure from that
historical place.
The fragrant Carolina jasmine growing on our fence is a treasured gift
from Mrs. Anne B. Wyatt, a former neighbor and dear lady. How I
wish she could walk in my backyard with me again. The smell of
sweet-shrub in the late afternoon as I brush its branches remind me
of Bill(my husband’s brother who died this past winter). He was always
sharing his plants with us.
The bird bath is an old piece of statuary we purchased at Mrs. Case’s
estate auction. This is a pleasant reminder of a sweet lady. Irises
were shared by many including my Aunt Annie and Aunt Madge.
I always forget how beautiful they are until they bloom again.
The Seven Sisters running rose bush is one we brought from Ma Ida’s.
The gardenia by the back steps with its heavy, sweet-smelling blooms
was given to us by the White’s next door—such good neighbors!
The Lady Banks rose, hydrangea and ferns came from our son’s
back yard. Oak leaf hydrangeas were brought from our daughter’s
hedge. (She hates them!)
The sun dial has a special place in my flower garden. It’s another
reminder of treasured friends. My sister gave me the purple columbine.
It comes back every year as a reminder that she will always be there
for me.
I’m waiting for the ginger lilies to poke through the earth again. Their
blooms are as fragrant as gardenias and as delicate as orchids. The
thrill of their flowers in late summer and early Autumn remind me of
a good friend, Frances, who shared the tubers with me.
As I sit here in the warm sunshine of early springtime, I wonder about
the quince and the mock orange. How old are they? Did someone
share those? I look at the Jackson vine and wonder if someone
besides me(in another time) enjoyed the shade it gives the front porch.
My mother recently told me as she walked in my back yard, “You
have three shrubs there and you hardly have room for one!" Well,
I like it that way. I have lots of friends!
My yard is a collection of memories. It reminds me of my childhood,
family, and dear friends. As Spring presents itself again, I remember…
The wisteria we dug from the riverbank creates an umbrella of fragrant
blossoms each Mother’s Day. The stone bench that sits underneath used to be a fireplace mantel in a field hand’s old house on the farm where my
husband grew up. Buttercups from my mother’s yard—so old she doesn't
remember who shared them with her.
Snowball bushes brought from the yard where I grew up are a pleasant
reminder of that time. The little dogwood seedling given to us by some
dear friends, was brought from the woods on their farm. Its branches
now cast shadows over the goldfish pond. The old rocks that Mr. Turner
(the caretaker of the Wheeler plantation) let us have to frame our pond,
remind my husband of the years his family lived on the Plantation as
sharecroppers. The English boxwoods are another treasure from that
historical place.
The fragrant Carolina jasmine growing on our fence is a treasured gift
from Mrs. Anne B. Wyatt, a former neighbor and dear lady. How I
wish she could walk in my backyard with me again. The smell of
sweet-shrub in the late afternoon as I brush its branches remind me
of Bill(my husband’s brother who died this past winter). He was always
sharing his plants with us.
The bird bath is an old piece of statuary we purchased at Mrs. Case’s
estate auction. This is a pleasant reminder of a sweet lady. Irises
were shared by many including my Aunt Annie and Aunt Madge.
I always forget how beautiful they are until they bloom again.
The Seven Sisters running rose bush is one we brought from Ma Ida’s.
The gardenia by the back steps with its heavy, sweet-smelling blooms
was given to us by the White’s next door—such good neighbors!
The Lady Banks rose, hydrangea and ferns came from our son’s
back yard. Oak leaf hydrangeas were brought from our daughter’s
hedge. (She hates them!)
The sun dial has a special place in my flower garden. It’s another
reminder of treasured friends. My sister gave me the purple columbine.
It comes back every year as a reminder that she will always be there
for me.
I’m waiting for the ginger lilies to poke through the earth again. Their
blooms are as fragrant as gardenias and as delicate as orchids. The
thrill of their flowers in late summer and early Autumn remind me of
a good friend, Frances, who shared the tubers with me.
As I sit here in the warm sunshine of early springtime, I wonder about
the quince and the mock orange. How old are they? Did someone
share those? I look at the Jackson vine and wonder if someone
besides me(in another time) enjoyed the shade it gives the front porch.
My mother recently told me as she walked in my back yard, “You
have three shrubs there and you hardly have room for one!" Well,
I like it that way. I have lots of friends!
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