|Mum and Dad on holiday|
My Dad came late to gardening, when he moved to a wee house with a small garden after my Mum's death. This was his first garden, as he had lived all of his life in tenement flats in Glasgow, so at 62 years old he began gardening.
Dad predominately grew roses, and he nourished them with much care and attention. His small front garden was a joy to behold through the Summer months with a variety of roses including Trumpeter and Margaret Merril, whilst the side of his house was festooned in climbing roses, New Dawn and Handel. He fed, sprayed, pruned, mulched, deadheaded and generally cossetted them and was rewarded with many lovely compliments from neighbours on the beauty of his small space.
So when I came back to Holly Grove after his send off I thought about a rose for remembrance, but I'm not sure my roses reach the high standard set by Dad. Then I considered planting something in bloom on his birthday, but that's at the end of January and could prove quite a challenge (and I don't spend time in the garden in Winter).
So what about something to cheer up the end of April, something heralding in the Spring and new life, something joyous, something ostentatious, something welcoming...
|Dad's cherry tree|
|image from Chew Valley Trees|
Happy Fathers' Day Dad - with me always x