Magical Mornings

  There is magic to be found in just about everything.  Life in itself is magical.  It is my thought that magic is anything that is unexplained or unexpected.  I have learned a long time ago that you cannot go about life fretting what others think as it is up to you to make life magical.  I live that way now.  Each day proves that my idea is correct.

  At daybreak this morning, I ventured out into the gardens.  The air smelled fresh due to the recent rains and the ground was still wet enough to muffle any footsteps.  The pair of cardinals were patiently waiting for breakfast and the frogs were still in the midst of their serenading of the night before.  It seemed to be a perfect morning and that all was right with the world...at least, it is all right in my little paradise.  Just outside the garden gate, the Althea bush had lovely blooms that were opening with the rising sun.  Their bright lavender petals and burgundy centers were absolutely breathtaking.  These blooms have always been special as the bush has "family ties".  It started as a cutting from my grandparent's place.  I eased my way to inspect the blooms and, to my surprise, found a dragonfly wing inside of one blossom.  Well, that was strange!  Of course, there was probably an ordinary explanation but finding the wing placed so perfectly inside the petal made it magical to me.

  Had Aunt Helen been on this stroll with me, she and I would have immediately proclaimed that a faerie had gotten new wings and left the old one as proof of her existence.  Maybe?  When Aunt Helen was alive, she and I could let our imaginations run amok.  Fantastical tales could be woven on a mere find as the one this morning.  

  Folks, sometimes it is important to let go of the worries of the world and find your own magic. It is out there.  Look for it.  Perhaps the "magic" was not in finding a dragonfly wing nor the lovely Althea bloom.  Perhaps it was in being free enough in my own mind to view it as such.  Finding beauty in mundane things is a gift.  Finding magic in everything is, too.

Not A Daisy

  A few years back, it dawned on me that one of my shrubs had a quite beautiful name.  It is a common hibiscus but goes by two different familiar names...Rose of Sharon and Althea.  At that time, I decided to combine all of the names and call my pretty plant "Althea Rose Sharon Bush".  I also decided that she would be a true Southern Belle that resided in the garden.  It just made sense to me at the time.  The name stuck and now I introduce the lovely lady to visitors to the gardens that surround the Little Bayou House.

  The conversation usually goes a lot like this.  Visitor...What is that beautiful purple bloom?"  Me.."I would like to introduce you to my friend!  This is Althea Rose Sharon Bush and she lives beneath the old oak tree in the garden.".  To which the visitor inexplicably gets a rather bemused look on the face and mutters something that sounds a lot like..."She is a daisy."  I am aghast!  Althea Rose Sharon is not daisy.  She is lovely and a favorite of mine.  Whereas, the visitor starts to explain that they did not think my bush was a daisy but that I am a bit crazy for naming plants.  Well, could be but Althea is not a daisy.  Thus ends the conversation about Althea Rose Sharon as, by this time, the visitor has usually spied the peach tree that is weighted down with fruit or the huge tomato plants that are just starting to ripen their tomatoes.  I hurry along behind still trying to defend the dignity of the Lady Althea.

  Actually, the Rose of Sharon is an old southern favorite.  The bushes are easy to grow, do not require much care and bloom with wild abandon.  Mine is the most common...purple but they come in a wide range of colors from deep maroon to white and everything in between.  The bushes are easy to start from cuttings and seeds so there is no need to have just one.  This is one of the cases where more is better!  Althea Rose Sharon Bush will always have a home in my gardens.

The Triplets!

  Back last spring, I wrote about the Althea bush that grows in the yard. This bush is from a cutting that Granddad rooted for me some thirty years ago.  At one time, it was in its glory!  The thing had grown to a fine size and never disappointed in providing many blooms. Then came Hurricane Katrina and my bush was smashed, doused, drowned and shredded.  I was heartbroken but determined to salvage what I could. The pitiful stick of a bush struggled along for a while but is starting (after all these years) to show some promise.  In my earlier writings, I mentioned that the Althea bush also goes by the name of Rose of Sharon.  That said, I decided to name my bush "Althea Rose Sharon Bush".  This is such a fine name for this true Southern Belle.  I had also made the statement that I was going to try to propagate new little bushes from this one.  Well, one thing after another got in the way of that idea until finally this spring.  About a month ago, I took three cuttings from the little bush and stuck them in a jelly glass.  For the longest time, nothing happened but then today, I noticed little white nubbies!  Small roots were starting to sprout from the stems!

An earlier photo of "Althea Rose Sharon Bush"!

  All three stalks are trying to root.  Within a week or so, I will plant my new bushes in pots and place them in the greenhouse.  There they shall sit until next spring.  This will give them plenty of time to set a good root stock before I transplant them into the yard.  Granddad would be proud that his time and effort were not wasted.  I am proud that I have been able to be a good guardian of the plant.  Althea Rose Sharon, I am sure, is proud to be the mother of triplets!