Autumn is such a nostalgic season to me. While winterizing my flower bed during the past few weeks, memories of where the various plants originated came flooding back to me. For instance, the mint that consumes my garden every year came from my maternal grandmother. She was a short, plump woman known at "Big Moma"to her 14 grandchildren. There was a two?car at the back of Big Moma's yard that she called the "car shed." She had planted mint by the side of the car shed and let it roam; I remember the fragrance of mint when we would brush against it while playing in the yard. My mint patch now is a mixture of chocolate mint, spearmint and Mama's mint. As much as I fuss about its aggressiveness, I love having it just where it Is.
Looking across the backyard I see the purple beauty bush my Mother gave me. It was just a stick when I brought it home and planted it in my yard. It is now a large bush covered with gorgeous purple berries. (Mother called It "that ugly thing.") I notice how much the sweet autumn clematis that she gave has grown this summer. It, too, arrived as a "twig" and now covers most of the back fence. I planted one near my mailbox, although Mother warned me, not to. It has completely covered the mailbox and is reaching for the tree nearby. Mother is always right!
The yellow cannas, the pink phlox, the "yellow ball" bush, the mounds of liriope, the double orange daylilies all came from Mother’s yard. As I work, I recall the times shared with her in her yard as we dug plants and talked. Every trip home to Griffin meant I would bring something home with me from her yard. Once she gave me a large garbage bag full of liriope. I twisted the top closed and put the bag on the back seat of the car for the ride home. The next day, as I was setting out the liriope, I found a snake curled into one of the clumps! It was a harmless, brown snake, but not anything I would care to have in my space!
Then there are the plants shared with me by my Master Gardener friends - the raspberry bush from Mark, the tall lacy fennel from Serdalia, the Chinese lanterns from Judy, the pot of night blooming cereus from Theodosia (at the last meeting). Every time I see these plants in my yard, I think of you all and how much I value your friendship. I'm so glad I became a Master Gardener!
Autumn.... the clear blue skies, the failing leaves, the cherished plants, poignant memories.... It truly is a nostalgic season!
Editor’s Note: A version of this article was originally published in the Haralson County Master Gardener Association Newsletter, “As the Garden Grows,”September/October 2005 issue.
