Plural

Plural

 

      After years of research in arcane libraries I have discovered the use of plurals for groups: A flock of birds, a school of fish, a hive of bees, a pod of whales, a clutter of cats, a parliament of owls, a sleuth of bears, a streak of tigers, a silence of mimes, a neverthriving of jugglers. OK, one of those I just made up. So sue me.

      Which brings me around to gardeners. Gardeners, for all the solitary pleasures enjoyed, are often social animals, gathering in groups to hear speakers, trade plant material, visit gardens and snack at a buffet. These are often called “meetings”, “tours”, “conventions” and the like. But there is no term for the actual collection of the gardeners themselves as there would be, say, for a mob of kangaroos (or a mob of mobsters??)

The Northern Virginia Chapter of the Azalea Society of America

      What to call this grouping? Almost everything we grow turns out to be green, so: a Green of Gardeners? Maybe, but the “village green” may already have co-opted that term and even oil companies try to brand themselves as “green” nowadays.

      A Flowering of Gardeners? Pretty appropriate, but vegetable gardeners don't often think of the flowers that their plants produce. And shade gardeners think more often of texture than color.

      A Raceme of Gardeners? Could be, as we pack in a meeting room or a hotel check-in line we do resemble the flowers packed closely on a stem. But the word is a little too obscure and I didn't exactly know how to pronounce it myself until I looked it up while writing this.

      A Waiting of Gardeners? One thing we all do is wait for almost a year to enjoy particular plants for a short time. We wait for the rain. Wait for the sunrise. Wait for the end of winter. Unfortunately, most people who will hear the term (and not read it) will look first to our girth, thinking of the homonym “weighting”.

      A Patience of Gardeners? I would take that as a compliment and be happy with the term. A little quiescent for my taste, especially as I'm simultaneously tearing out weeds, slapping at gnats and clearing the sweat from my eyes.

      What else is common to gardeners? We've probably all stood in our gardens with a coffee cup, thinking about what needs to be transplanted (a cup of gardeners?) We all do laundry after the day is over, we all wear hats, we all use tools (a shovelful of gardeners?) I'm out of ideas, other than A Hopeful of gardeners. You can do better so please make a suggestion. Off now to meet a Host of Hosta gardeners!

                                                                                         

Pumpkin Pie in the Heat of July?

Pumpkin Pie in the Heat of July?

      I liked the flowers at first.

      A vine had appeared with very large blue flowers on a pole in a neighbor's yard. I didn't remember seeing it on my jogs and decided that it must have just been planted. A month later the vine and flowers were still there, exactly as they had appeared the first day. Come fall and then winter, those large flowers on the vine were still shining as gloriously as the day they were made in some Chinese factory.

      Is that homeowner's approach better than planting the vine, waiting for the flowers and then cutting it down when it turns brown in November? I tried to think why and then I remembered how much the tiny crocuses are enjoyed in the brown dirt, snow patches and dead leaves of late winter. It was so long since I had seen any flowers and nothing else was around for competition.

Female Downy Woodpecker, Male Goldfinch at my feeder

      Why do I like the yellow and blue Warblers of spring more than the birds that visit my feeder? The warblers only pass through during a brief window in May whereas the Chickadees, Cardinals and Blue Jays are always here.

The only place to be in early May

      The dominance of azaleas in May, a mass of color in the landscape, is like no other display and I'd rather be in my backyard then than anywhere else. A wall of soft, bright color here. A blaze of garish lights there. And of course they fade, but while our time with them is short, it is special.

      We don't eat pumpkin pie and drink eggnog in July. The few times that we enjoy them are memorable.

      Christmas lights look great in the winter evenings, but a neighbor keeps a small evergreen lit with them all year and it just becomes part of the woodwork.

      The flower colors of spring, the dark green dominance of summer and the leaves of fall are pleasures that haven't been seen in a year and we always look forward to the show. 
 

      I hate winter: cold, windy, icy, dark. But I grudgingly admit that without that contrast the spring wouldn't look, feel and smell as great. So I'll raise a cup of hot chocolate to the collapsing thermometer, wait for the first crocuses and give winter its due.

{{ An extended version of this essay was published on March 20, 2019 }}