Other Peoples' Gardens

My little courtyard space is filled with geraniums, lavender and clematis. They are mostly blue and white flowers, yet in the middle of these is a single pink rose plant. When I moved in and the garden was a sea of mud and rubbish, that valiant little plant was still stubbornly carrying a pink bloom and I could never bring myself to remove it.

This year it is covered in flowers, and it seems to me that many plants appear to be especially beautiful and prolific this year. In addition to those in my own tiny space, I have been enjoying lots of flowers belonging to other people in gardens both grand and small.

The pleasure thus afforded put me in mind of one of my favourite garden poems, 'My Neighbor's Roses', by Abraham L Gruber (1807-82). It is a short poem, only three verses, but it's the middle one I want to quote here, because it is undoubtedly true:

'They bloom for me and are for me as fair
As for the man who gives them all his care.
Thus I am rich, because a good man grew
A rose-clad vine for all his neighbor's view.'

My thanks to all those gardeners whose roses, and other flowers, I am daily enjoying.