Wild Elephant
What? You haven’t heard of the elephant loose in the Farm Nursery in Summit, NJ? I hadn’t either – until yesterday. But there he was, at the top of a pond, standing life-size, with water streaming out of his trunk into the waterfall below. The Farm is a truly remarkable place. Every flower, tree, pot, vine, vegetable, fountain, pond and garden statue is on display there.
As I was wandering around, through the many paths and trails, I reminisced about my mom. She loved every flower that ever existed, except gladiolas which she considered to be funeral flowers. I love glads, though – shockingly beautiful stalks of flowers in such vibrant colors. I guess she wasn’t very fond of calla lilies either, for the same reason, but I love their delicate, simple curves.
I’m getting ready to plant some pots on my balcony this summer. Since Arthur’s favorite foods are tomatoes with feta, I’m also getting a goat to milk to make the cheese. As if. No, seriously, I’m going to be planting the tiny cherry tomatoes so he can go out on the balcony and harvest them himself. I’m also figuring out a little herb garden for the shady side of the balcony. I’m excited to try my hand at container gardening. I’ve not done it successfully before. Usually, I plant things with the best of intentions, and then some disrupting thing happens and I am forced to abandon them. At least that’s my story.
Maybe this will be the year that I’ll be attentive and nurturing to the plants, harvesting bushels of tomatoes and herbs, and creating delicious, nutritious dishes. I’ll be the Martha Stewart of container gardening. What is slightly more likely, is they’ll grow, and I’ll start using the tomatoes as little missiles off my balcony – I can just see myself, in the heat of the summer, feeling around for the squashy ones, and leaning way back on my rocking chair, just out of sight of the ground, and tossing them at unsuspecting visitors. Or maybe plinking them like marbles off the balcony, letting the hail of tomatoes rain upon the parking lot. Instead of my upstairs neighbor’s nasty cigarette butts, I will flick blueberries, grapes and cherry tomatoes into the wind. Who knew it would be so fun to live on the 9th floor!
Speaking of that, the other day when Arthur was here, it was warm and sunny out, so we sat on the balcony. Before we knew it, Arthur was picking things up and very casually dropping them off the side. Thankfully, there wasn’t anything major – just some leaves and one paper plate that had floated down from an upstairs apartment – but he had a wonderful time. We also played with bubbles and his metal bowl and whisk. Mostly, he just loves the big, fluffy white rug in my front room, and finds every possible way to contort his little body so that it is in full contact with the white rug. That’s why I got it – for all of our comfort and joy.
