Sunday, November 16, 2014
I'm remembering last week and this rose in Margaret Moseley's garden. It's probably one of her collection of David Austin English roses. It was the last of the lovely days for a while. Margaret, 98, was looking happy walking through the garden, peering up at the sasanquas that are now 25 feet tall and enjoying the autumn colors of the halesia, the winged euonymus, the dogwoods and the Japanese maples. Her ginkgo had not turned yet, although I saw today that the ones at church and those all along the way have dropped their leaves.
As I rushed back through the garden on Tuesday, quickly taking 85 photographs, I thought of Margaret's words after I showed her some 500 pictures of her garden in preparation for writing Margaret Moseley's A Garden to Remember:
"My goodness. I can't believe I planted all that."
I couldn't either.