A couple of weeks ago, we were up in Ontario for a car show that we attend every year. We own an LBC (that's Little British Car for the uninitiated), specifically a Triumph Stag, and we come up to British Car Day in Burlington. We're friends with a group of people who also own Stags, and for a couple days prior to the show, we all go tooling around the area to various amusements that they've arranged. One of our field trips was to the Royal Botanical Garden in Hamilton, and it's the first time we've been back there in many years. The other time was during rose season, and that's a sight not to be missed. If you live anywhere in the Northeastern US, you should make it a point to go there. I believe they have the largest collection of lilacs in Canada, and the rose gardens were amazing. At this time of year, there wasn't a great deal blooming, and I was feeling a bit crestfallen as I wandered around - until my eyes fell on a huge bed of dahlias. Nothing but dahlias. Dinnerplates, cactus and zinnia forms, tall ones, short ones, medium ones, all colors, bicolors. You name a dahlia, it was there. I spent so much time prowling around the bed, in a trance of delight, that my husband had to drag me away before we got left behind!
While there, I was reminded of another autumn trip involving dahlias. My husband and I were up in Maine at the beginning of October that year for him to attend a photography workshop. One day we went to Campobello, Franklin Roosevelt's summer home, and lining the driveway to the home was a regiment of dinnerplate dahlias in all the colors of the rainbow. There had been no frost yet, due to the ameliorating effect of the Bay of Fundy, and they were truly magnificent. The few dahlias that I grow here at home are pretty, and invaluable for flower arrangements at this season, but they're only a pale imitation of the dahlias of my Canadian adventures..........
No comments:
Post a Comment