I love plants.  Vegetables.  Flowers.  Trees.  You name it.  It started long ago.  Mom created a tiered rock garden at one end of the house.  Sweet William was the flower I remember from that bed.  It crept over the edges in profusions of purple and pink.  The other thing I remember was being told not to walk on the rocks.  You take the good with the bad.

Daddy’s flowerbed was in the backyard.  It ran the length of the side yard.  He loved to surprise us with his designs and plant variety.  Every year it was a big secret.  As Spring warmed the beds, up would pop rings of red tulips and mounds of peonies.  Daisies would cheer and day lilies wave in the warm Kansas air.  I adored the Hollyhocks that stood as sentinels by the back corner.  By mid-summer gladiolas would show-off for my birthday.  Short-lived blossoms, but not in my memories.  Mother always chose Daddy’s best for bouquets that graced our table for special occasions.  Here we are in our church clothes in front of one of Daddy’s masterpieces.

I found a place that brought to mind that special time of flowers, childhood, and simplicity.  Bonnie’s Greenhouse.  I think it really is a portal to another dimension. Just before you reach Bonnie’s you may be questioning your GPS.  The road to the nursery meanders through an area that could be aptly described as ‘deep Appalachian’.  But, WAIT FOR IT — at the bend in the road you will arrive in another realm.

Flowerbeds and greenhouses in glorious abundance.  Guinea hens cluck and peck removing unwanted insect intruders.  Fountains flow.  Chimes make their lovely little chimey-sounds. Trees tower over seating areas.  Quaint pathways allow you to wander in and out of beds of vegetation.

Cast-offs find a home here.  Old bicycles regain their dignity with their baskets re-purposed to carry bunches of flowering vines. Dented wash tubs are festooned in malabar spinach veritably shouting for your admiration.  The photo to the left is what this vining spinach is capable of.  Did I mention it flowers?  [I bought two for my TowerGarden.  I simply had to.] Whimsical pieces dot the beds.  You’ll find them tucked here and there.

Bonnie’s speaks to me in its quiet.  No music, or PA system.  Not here.  The lack of intrusion allows my soul to rest.  I could spend hours there.  I was refreshed after spending just 30 minutes.

Do you need a shot-in-the-arm?  Go find your happy place.  If you are really fortunate, you will find a gem like Bonnie’s.