Kiss the Earth

Even in the garden, where I believe we are at our most authentic, we can be just as unconscious as we are elsewhere. This year in my garden, I suddenly realized, I've been gravitating toward yellow, a color I've always loved but until now has taken a back seat to purples and pinks. This is not by design exactly. It's a classic case of we like what we like and eventually it comes out.

Walking around to see how much the overnight rain had energized everything, I was struck this morning by the many patches of yellow: the bumpy - spectacular - spires of false lupine, the hardy yellow pansies, the new bits of yellow yarrow, the mound of evening primrose (known as sundrops) a neighbor shared last spring, the ever-taller healianthoides next to thin spikes of globe-flower, and the 'Angelina' sedums blooming up and down the walkway.

Most of these are new. And do they cheer me up! I think this signals a new day in my garden, one infused with horticultural sunshine to complement the real thing. It changes the palette dramatically, perhaps a sign of growing confidence.