This "Woodland Trillium Triptych"... consisting of two 16x12 side canvases with a 16x20 inch central canvas image speaks eloquently of the the natural glory to be experienced in most any shady woodland stand across the entire province of Ontario. Amongst the blankets of white trillium blossoms with their three dark green shapely leaves, one can find odd pockets of red trilliums which seem dominant to the eye... even though in terms of their sheer presence alone...they certainly are vastly out numbered. I always conjure up an image in my eye of an enclave of Catholic cardinals... surrounded by a host of nuns in starched white hooded habits. Don't know why that is.... "Silly Bear"!
My most early memory of the trillium is a hiking sortie with my Mom at about seven years of age We came upon such a sight on that hike which deeply moved my Mom... so much so, that we returned home and came directly back... garden spade and clay pot to carefully dig out a clump to be place in our small quiet garden at the rear of our home in Brockville. That wee quiet space was my Mom's refuge before we purchased our cottage at the Narrows Lane Road near Rockport. It was a small, simple, but beautiful garden because of her naturally artistic eye and flair for colour. Despite being very small, she maximized the space and its visual effect by developing strength... through structure and colour. That strength was something that she taught me at that very early age and I learned through her passion and commitment daily to her gardening art form.
This morning on my early morning walkabout throughout the village, my thoughts continually shifted back back between my deeply seated memories of the past and "Her"... and then back to the present, as I came upon currently blooming spring flowers of various colours and varieties. Each one... I could remember blooming for a time in her spring gardens. Here are some of those garden bouquets... each resplendent to the eye... each with its own space and all inviting the eye to light and enjoy free of cost... the beauty of God's work and the creative effort of the hand of an anonymous gardener.
Bright hybrid tulips of every design...
Purple clumps of shy woodland violets... pushed up through a carpet last years fade and fallen oak leaves
Yellow tulips spiking above a cluster of narcissus
A trio of red tulip trumpets sounding their annual spring fanfare...
A quiet refuge of flower and structure stops the eye momentarily in the morning shadows
Bright star-shaped golden daffodils...
A quiet garden morning refuge... a wonderful place to drink in the wonder of creation and a hot cup o' java
Spring is firmly rooted in every corner of my world here in Rockport... as are sweet memories of my dear Mom. Her life long love of spring and flower and gardens is now mine to pass forward... and I have done so. My children, be they male or female share that love of the outdoor world. It comes from me for sure... but Mom as well shares a well-earned role in their valuing and finding joy through flowers.
So it seems fitting that this Mother's Day tribute and ode to flowers post be dedicated not only to the memory of my own dear Mom... but as well be spent with much love and thanks to all Moms... and Moms who graduate to Gramma. Without your special kind of love would never manage to exist... except that each of "You" tended your own gardens so well... and with such passion and compassion. Happy Mother's Day from "Me"... to each of you!
I will close out this post with a thought which came to me as I pondered this influence of Mothers as influences which shape the future and remain beyond earthly existence:
"Art is the Garden of Humanity. And we, as artists... are its constant Gardeners."
Happy Mother's Day Mom... wherever you are!
This painted tribute has marked the fork in the road... the arrow pointing towards Kerry Point... the right arm leads to our own summer Shangra-la on Narrows Lane. It was painted by a young cottager as a tribute to her own "Special" Gramma. Tragically... that little teen flower was tragically killed along the Parkway... not far from here more than a decade ago. Time has now forever united that wee child and Gramma and Grampa. Despite their leaving... this sign has been maintained... and tended... anonymously for more than a decade. One life can make a difference...as this epitaph reminds me of that Truth ... each and every time I pass it !
The Universe speaks mysteriously yet another time. One of Deb's beloved ruby Throated Hummingbirds has returned to her feeder... just in the nick o' time to give "Her" the best Mother's Day gift ever. Hope.... is in simply believing as only a child can. Sometimes hope can become a dream come true - if you simply believe enough ... to hang out a feeder!
Happy Mother's Day Deb... for helping "Me" to continue to Dream... Hope... and Believe!... "I" love you for these gifts that you bring to me.... unconditionally.... every day of my life!