It’s Tuffy P. on this post
July – the last weekend. We headed to Buffalo – early. Gardens, over 400 open free to the world at 10am. Two hot days. Welcomed inside homes newly purchased, welcomed in yards not even mapped. Stood beneath the oldest tree in the state, ‘grow old together’ painted on the walk beneath the tree. Looked inside the eyes of giant dahlias, stood beneath the monster sunflowers. Humbled to find so many towers of lilies. The bowed weight of their sweet, so sweet scent hanging in the hot afternoon sun. Into so many of the Grassroots Gardens – the community gardens – the soul of the city. Offered mulberries hot from the tree, and cherry tomatoes – and asked, did we see the chickens – yet?
Backyards from the 1800’s – lined with pavers of the original sidewalks of the city. The grape vines of 40 years found broken by and rejuvenated by new owners. Into the backyards. The pink house with a welcoming side and narrow back garden- nested behind another house – was once a trapper’s cabin. And in another back garden – the bench – set in front of a misted, miniature world. The lady that sat at that bench for a long, long time – looking at the world re-built from moss and small plants from the garden. The invitation to imagine yourself in a small world, for as long as you’d like.
Bees. Lots and lots.
Between 2 roads – Shakespeare’s garden complete with flowers and verse. Stay awhile and talk. And then time to move on, we can’t stop yet.