Herbaceous peonies are lusciously and clumsily spilling over in various parts of the gardens.
First . . . a long row of peonies . . . the remnants of an old bed . . . running down towards the ‘Middle Meadow Garden’ . . . seem to hold a buttery glow within their plentiful and wholesome whorls.
Below along the ‘Terrace Path’ leading up to the ‘Upper Garden’ . . .
a lovely single peony survives beneath French lilacs . . . smiling . . . in hopes that as I pass by . . . I might pull the bedstraw and bishop’s weed threatening her show. Of course, I always do.
Stepping into the ‘Upper Garden’ . . . mostly growing wildly . . .
two toned . . . red speckles and soft pink folds of petals reach out above the green sea of bishop’s weed.
Nearby within the ‘Upper Garden’ . . . wet and full . . . the same cultivar peony as those in the long row above . . . looking a bit disheveled, after the rain . . . within the dappled light.
Venturing back down the stairs into the ‘Lower Garden’ . . .
a mauve, white and blue palette of singles and salvias awaits.
Bright sunlight creates such a different mood from that of the earlier early morning photos above.
Blossoms fully alive and alert to all earthly sensations
Walking over towards the ‘North Garden’ . . .
Full bodied blooms barely stand beneath a Rosa Rugosa. These were planted only about ten years ago . . . the name of the cultivar is on the tip of my tongue. The beautybush in the distance adds to the drama.
Then . . . just over to the left . . . behind the ‘Writer’s Studio’ near a late blooming lilac . . .
A single vibrant mauve peony reflects the light.
Lastly . . . similar in color to the delicate blooms above . . . around the corner at the edge of the ‘North Garden’ . . .
mouthwatering moments mingle . . .
with unfurling . . . nearly falling over . . .
textures and fragrances merge . . . another Rosa Rugosa looks down upon . . .
joyous light filled peonies.
Ah, but now the rain is doing its thing and I will have to go out tomorrow and cut off the larger peony heads and await the buds again.
No matter . . . herbaceous peonies are so grand and I have so much room . . . even if I can only enjoy the full blown blooms for a day or two, before buckets of rainfall makes them heady and heavy . . . resembling a type of mop.
They truly are rather conspicuous beauties and give very little to the pollinators . . . I rarely see any bees in these, as I have often seen filling their pollen baskets inside the Tree Peonies.
I confess to loving more delicate flowers first, but there is room enough within me too . . . to enjoy them all . . . especially in a more rambling and wildly cultivated setting.
Dear Readers, I apologize for not knowing the names of any of these bounteous blooms. Ten and even twenty-five years have passed and I cannot find my records right now.