Claude Monet, the Water-Lilies, Paris and L'Orangerie

Our family traveled from Prague to Paris for a getaway in the West last weekend. Along with time walking along the Seine, the Tuileries Gardens, around the Eiffel Tower and Arc D' Triumph and Trocodero, and mass at the Notre Dame on Ile d'Cite, visiting the Musée de l’Orangerie in Jardin des Tuileries became the thrilling highlight for me. 

all photographs: paintings of Les Nympheas by Claude Monet from Musee l'Orangerie, Paris

As far back as I can remember, Claude Monet has been one of my favorite artists; his Impressionistic style has always resonated, deeply. Last weekend, on this first visit to L'Orangerie, my love for Monet's art has grown exponentially.

It is difficult to explain in mere words the substantive presentation of Monet's Les Nympheas (The Water Lilies) ... so I'm including several photographs, along with quotes from Monet, to better portray his masterpieces and their sheer beauty.

"It took me time to understand my waterlilies. I had planted them for the pleasure of it; I grew them without ever thinking of painting them." -Claude Monet

"My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece."

"I can only draw what I see."

"Everything I have earned has gone into these gardens." (on his gardens at Giverny)

"Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment."

"It took me time to understand my waterlilies. I had planted them for the pleasure of it; I grew them without ever thinking of painting them."

"I know that to paint the sea really well, you need to look at it every hour of every day in the same place so that you can understand its way in that particular spot and that is why I am working on the same motifs over and over again, four or six times even."

"It's on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly."

 

 

 

"Thanks to water, [Monet] has become the painter of what we cannot see. He addresses that invisible spiritual surface that separates light from reflection. Airy azure captive of liquid azure ... Color rises from the bottom of the water in clouds, in whirlpools."

Starting the Discussion: What art inspires you? Who is your favorite artist? Do you have a favorite art museum you go to for inspiration?

Stop and Smell the Flowers

"Don't hurry. Don't worry.

You're only here for a short visit.

So be sure to stop and smell the flowers."

-Walter Hagen

In the whirl of a wired world, business never slows, time never stops, and we find little rest. Life passes quickly, numbing our hearts and wearing us down to exhaustion. But our lives were made for more ...

Sometimes, we need to slow down, take a deep breath, and smell the flowers beside our feet, whose scent lingers on sweet breezes and whose faces lift our hearts up toward the sun.

In this post, I'm sharing a series of Spring garden flowers, to brighten your day, and to remind you of the small things that bring life, and laughter, and love ... To this season of New Life, of Renewal, and of Spring.

 

"The best and most beautiful things

in the world cannot be seen or even touched.

They must be felt with the heart."

-Helen Keller

 

"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful,

we must carry it with us or we find it not." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch,

a smile, a kind word, a listening ear,

an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring:

all of which have the potential to turn life around."

-Leo Buscaglia

"I am beginning to learn that it is the

sweet, simple things of life

which are the real ones after all."

-Laura Ingalls Wilder

"One of the most tragic things I know about human

nature is that all of us tend to put off living.

We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden

over the horizon--instead of enjoying the roses

blooming outside our windows today."

-Dale Carnegie

"Love bears all things,

Believes all things,

Hopes all things,

Endures all things,

Love never fails."

-The Book of Corinthians, Chapter 13

"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain." -William Shakespeare

 
Starting the conversation: What parts of Spring do you cherish most? How do you slow down and remember to smell the flowers?

Beauty Is ...

"Beauty is not caused. It is."  -Emily Dickinson

Lately, as I write, and rewrite, and rework my novel, I have thought much about beauty-- in stories, in relationships, in the way things look and feel, and the way words sound when read. But beauty and achieving it is not something easily done. Anyone with a blank canvas and a handful of brushes knows that beautiful art is not easily created. Anyone with a keyboard and a blank screen knows that excellent writing cannot quickly be hammered out. But somehow, beauty is ...

Often, I turn to photographs for inspiration. I thought I would share a few with you, flowers I photographed in our former gardens.

Beauty is ...

one of my favorite combinations of garden roses in bloom

a beautifully-painted Black Swallowtail butterfly on Echinacea

the jaw-dropper of a daylily, about twelve inches wide

my personal favorite: Bellaroma rose dazzling in dew at first morning's light

"Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God's handwriting ... "  -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Starting the Conversation (leave a comment below):  What do you think about beauty and art? Can beauty be created? Or like Emily Dickinson said so eloquently, do you believe that "beauty is"?

The Garden Fairies' Return

Outside the doors, the world is changing, greening, coming alive. I love spring for so many reasons, but probably most for reimmersion with hope. Where the world was dead and ugly now is verdant and full of life, and beautiful. The bouquet sitting on my table as I write is bursting with fragrance and bloom—tulips, jonquils, bleeding hearts, and Poet’s daffodils. Ah—Spring I love! A photograph …

Even more exciting for me than the flowering is the return of the hummingbirds, my Garden Fairies. Yesterday, I spotted my first male Ruby-throated Hummingbird at one of my feeders. And, as every year’s first glance, I stared in shock and wide-eyed wonder at the tiny sparkler hovering about the gardens. Beautiful!

In the peak of their season here, our yard swarms with hummers, which I love more than can be described in words. They are magical to me, fantastic glimpses of impossibility overcome with beauty. I won’t go on and on – check out http://www.hummingbirds.net/ for migration routes, photographs of the different breeds, and every other hummingbird fact you could conjure into question. One amazement to me, as with the amazing migration of the Monarch butterflies, is the Ruby-throated Hummingbird’s migration—most of them apparently migrate to and from Central America by leaving at dusk and taking a nonstop five-hundred mile flight across the Gulf of Mexico. Incredible considering each hummer weighs less than five ounces! So, to these flitting miracles, I look forward to being dive-bombed while out in the yard in the early hours—won’t be long.

To set up your own hummingbird feeder, find one easy to take apart and clean, and with bee-guards at the ports. Mixing nectar is simple, and needs to be done about once a week: 4 parts water with 1 part sugar, heat water and stir in sugar, cool and add to feeder. Depending on the outdoor temperature, feeders need to be maintained regularly by cleaning (don’t use soap on the feeder), and replenishing the nectar.

‘Tis the season to enjoy the everyday miracles outdoors! Enjoy … JK

5 Great Ways to Experience Spring

Today as I write, I look outside and see brown. Everywhere brown. There is something about this time of year and the oft-times biting cold and lingering darkness that makes me yearn for the blue skies and green grass of summer. Green. Yes, what I long for is green to come from the brown.

a sweet reminder of Spring, last Spring in our yard

Spring happens to be my favorite season. Not for the wind and rain and cold and dark, but for the newness of it all. Rebirth. The Reawakening of everything brown that brings back the green. The verdant beauty waiting just beneath the surface of the brown sticks and rustling dead leaves. Renewal.

I once heard this: “If we live to be 100 years old, we will have only experienced Spring 100 times” … if we’re paying attention. That quote always brings me back to this season with wide eyes. In only weeks I’ll be looking out at flowers and hummingbirds and butterflies. By the way the deadened world looks now, it seems impossible. But it will come. Something bigger is at work, right before our eyes. Spring.

My life always fills up and brims over with busyness, so unless I am intentional I will miss this rebirth we call Spring. So, to help me remember to watch and be on the lookout for the miracle of Spring, I’m listing 5 Great Ways to Experience Spring. This year, I want to turn my busy days into the grand experience they can be, days that can be savored. Here are five simple ideas:

1. One time each day, pause and look—really look—at the landscape, and note what has changed from the day before.
2. Take a walk through someplace wild—it could be the backyard, or a park, or an open field. Not only see what is around, but feel it as well in fresh smells and popping colors floating on the breeze.
3. Plant some flowers. Pansies are cheery reminders of spring with their colorful faces and sweet disposition, but any flower will do. Try a pot for simplicity’s sake, or take on a more ambitious endeavor, but the process of growing something brings Spring near.
4. Stop and take notice of blooms as they unfurl their splendor for the world, and cut a bouquet to bring indoors. Tulips, daffodils, lily of the valley, peonies, iris … an endless parade of Spring beauties wait outside laden with fragrance to be enjoyed.
5. Pull out the camera and capture a photo or two of a Wow moment—that moment when you see something new and its beauty takes your breath away. Somehow, capturing something through a lens makes the experience richer, into one that can be shared.

Today I am ready for the reawakening of Spring. It is a new month, a new week, and a new day. A new season. I’m ready for the reawakening to occur within me.

This year, Spring arrives as it does every year, pushing out the brown and ushering in the green.
… Only 100 times …

To Delight in a Rose

Given the state of the all current news (sour) and the economy (abysmal), and given the fact that outside my window as I write this, snow falls atop inches more of snow, I have to write about something colorful, something beautiful, and something that lifts my spirits (as I hope it does yours)—roses. Ah, yes, roses … life should be a beautiful bouquet of roses. Especially around this time of year, when the ground and everything surrounding it appears dead and brown, and the snow washes everything clean and white, and our eyes forget the riches of Nature’s beauty in the color that spring so lavishly brings. Yes, roses.

The roses I’d like to share are no ordinary roses. These roses are … my favorites, which mean these rosebushes are ones which have withstood the tests and trials of time in my backyard garden in Zone 6 Southwest Ohio. It also means these beauties have outlasted one very feisty old dog and her tricks and three young men who constantly test the roses’ durability with soccer balls and the like. These roses, Jennifer’s favorite roses, are ones that, with enough abuse, can survive and flower beautifully in any other garden, too—including yours. Of course, I’m being funny, but it’s true—these roses I’m listing below are ones which have bloomed in profusion despite everything I do wrong. I hope the photographs I paste in bring you a slice of fragrant springtime …

Jeanne LaJoie: One of the most beautiful roses I have ever seen. The two in my garden, I bought at the clearance table at a local nursery one year. They have produced abundant blooms every June and then throughout each summer and into fall. Both top out at about six feet tall, and send up new canes for even more blooms each year. Technically, Jeanne LaJoie is a Miniature Climbing rose. Click here to find it online.

Double Delight: This rose is one of the roses my grandmother loves most, and so I also planted it in my garden a few years back. Every rose seems to be different, with a unique and exquisite blending of cream-colored white and crimson red. Combining its looks with its captivating fragrance, this rose is a definite favorite. Mine has always remained somewhat small, and the leaves never look very attractive, so I’ve interplanted mine with other perennials, but the blossoms are amazing. Technically, Double Delight is a Hybrid Tea. Click here to find it online.

Tahitian Sunset: Truly, I have to say that this rose has been the one, besides the climbers, to continually produce oodles of blooms. Not only is it robust and its leaves are attractive, but it has a wonderful fragrance and is resistant to the blackspot that normally disrobes my other roses by mid-summer. But the best part is that I have had the pleasure of cutting a dozen long-stemmed apricot-colored roses from my single Tahitian Sunset rosebush. Many times. Amazing, in my mind. Click here to find it online.

Peter Mayle: This is my absolute favorite in the rose world—Peter Mayle. The fragrance on this Hybrid Tea rose is beyond that of any other in my garden, and the blossoms—well, the photograph speaks for itself. Heat has never seemed to affect its flowering, and a single long-stemmed rose lasts for over a week in a vase. Yes, this is the one I love most … Peter Mayle. Click here to find it online.

I would love to hear your stories and favorites from your yards. Please add as you like to the comments below. Enjoy the day! Looking forward to a color-filled spring-- Jennifer.

Enduring the Cold

This past week’s weather has been blisteringly cold for most of our nation, and dipped below zero a few times even here in Southwest Ohio. I really can’t imagine living any farther north. The USA Today weather page had an interesting fact a few days ago—at -37 degrees F., the rubber on tires freezes, meaning that the flat spot from being parked remains when driving at or below -37 degrees. Thump-thump, thump-thump …

It’s no wonder, then, that roses can hardly survive the cold, especially the beautiful ones, the hybrid teas. As I look outside now, our backyard gardens wear a thin veil of snow to protect them from the cold. Not enough, I’m afraid, to withstand the cold from the last week. We’ll find out if any survived in April …

Every year in November, I go about our fifty or so rosebushes and dress them for the winter. I am not a finicky gardener—in fact I’m probably more of a minimalist. With a normal garden shovel, I heave a mound of nearby soil over the base of most rosebushes, depending on what they are, to help them endure the cold.
For the shrub roses, like the very popular (and rightfully so) Knock Out, I don’t do a thing. In my experience, the Knock Out roses, along with all Rugosa roses and other shrub roses, can withstand a chainsaw pruning and bloom beautifully even still.
Knock Out shrub rose

For English roses (cultivated by the legendary David Austin), I use substantially more care. Not only do I hill dirt and mulch around the base of the plant, but I also gather bundles of spent Becky daisy stems and work them into the branches to the base.
English roses, Evelyn, Jubilee Celebration, Jude the Obscure, and Redoute

For floribundas and grandifloras, like Simply Marvelous, I do the same as for the English roses.
And finally, for the most demanding of all roses, the Hybrid Teas, I accommodate them with a bit more attention and ensure the dirt, mulch, stems, and grass straw all cover the base and first foot of each plant. I have to admit, I love Hybrid Tea blooms.

Double Delight, hybrid tea

That leaves my handful of old roses to cover, which includes one of the old beauties, Baronne Prevost, whose visual beauty comes nowhere near her amazing fragrance. I treat the old roses for the winter basically the same as the floribundas.

Baronne Prevost, an old (1840's) hybrid perpetual

Climbing roses, I don’t touch. Eden and New Dawn are favorites of mine that have survived every Ohio winter since I’ve planted them nearly ten years ago.

New Dawn, an unstoppable climbing beauty

As far as other annual maintenance for the roses, I leave the pruning and sealing of canes for late April, and fertilize with a liquid fertilizer that also incorporates systemic to keep diseases and pests at bay.

In truth, I always lose at least a few rosebushes each year. This year, I’ll probably lose more than a few—but in my gardens, as in the rest of life, nothing goes just the way I think it will. I figure the ones that die leave room to try a few new ones each spring. And as a result, every year I seem to find a new favorite.

Whatever time I spend tending to roses—one hour in fall preparing roses for winter, and one hour in spring whacking the dead canes off and fertilizing—I find the pleasure and joy I gain from having roses far outweighs the work. Walking amongst the lingering fragrance and petals floating about on the breeze, and cutting rose blooms for enjoyment indoors remains one of the greater pleasures of having a garden. And when the dew dazzles like diamonds atop a rosebud on a heady summer morning, maybe, I think, the experience is one of the greater pleasures of life and living.

Next week, I’ll plan to share a few photographs of the roses I enjoy the most.

And, on the 23rd (this Friday), I’m hosting my friend and fellow writer, Keri Wyatt Kent to talk about her latest book, entitled Rest. For a preview, visit her website at http://www.keriwyattkent.com/.

Finally, a huge thank you to the editors at the renowned author website, The Red Room, for giving me the honor of the "Red Room Rising Star." Visit their home page to see more: http://www.redroom.com/. Thank you!

For Color-Starved Eyes

Every year about this time, in the darkest, coldest, cruelest part of winter, my eyes become color-starved. The reason I know this is because when the gardening catalogs start arriving just about the time the lights and glimmer from Christmas fade, it’s all I can do to keep myself from poring over their pages for hours. Not only do all of the flowers and sample gardens indulge my eye, but something intangible in the shapes and opulence of the photographs make my eyes want to hang onto the images for hours. This is the reason, I realize now, that I wanted to have my own camera and my own gardens—to find something of beauty upon which to gaze when winter has sapped the color from my world.

So … I’m sharing the beginning of the story of how our gardens came to be …

We moved into our home, an ordinary suburban house in Southwest Ohio, almost ten years ago from a tiny bungalow in New Orleans. During our time here, it’s possible we may have spent as much time outdoors as we have indoors. At least, so it seems. Even as toddlers, the boys stole every chance to escape out the back door to stomp in puddles. Instead of trying to corral them back inside, I joined the boys outside. I still have memories of their little legs running through the grass while they pushed plastic wheelbarrows loaded with brightly-colored children’s tools. The boys have spent years beside me on their knees building worm habitats while I weeded or worked in the gardens. Muddy or not, we all have a love for the backyard, and as a result, we have many gardens.

Our yard contained only a postage stamp-sized concrete patio and two spindly trees when we moved in. So, the first year we lived here, I spent hours chipping away at the sod in frugal attempts to transform our plain yard into something more interesting. The shape came slowly at first, laid out in crude shapes with garden hoses to represent the picture I had painted in my mind. As we built a couple of structures—a pergola and an arbor—the gardens started to move along. Plants came a little slower, but eventually, through pass-alongs from friends and plants found in the bargain bins at local garden centers, our backyard came to know some color … these four photographs follow our gardens through the change in seasons, from dull and lifeless in winter to rose-covered arbors in spring to the eye-popping rainbow of summer and the more muted tones of autumn.

Per the requests of a few blog followers, I plan to return with more posts of garden photography over the coming weeks.

Here’s to looking forward to a beautiful Spring!