Why worry?

"Deep greens and blues
Are the colors I choose..."

Late winter is the best time for my garden. The rain has awakened the flowers—not ones I have slaved to pull out of pony packs and plant throughout the garden beds; I gave up that routine years ago. These are flowers I can count on to be faithful beauties when the calendar says summer is still far away. Trailing periwinkle with its blue stars are the under-painting, along with blue-daisyed brachycome and magenta geranium and a wide swath of blue chalk stick. The grey arctotis blooms its fuschia flowers first, and then come purple and gold freesias, followed by blue Dutch iris.

Less than a decade ago, it dawned on me that I should luxuriate in the blues and grays of native foliage, and in a single stroke one afternoon the bed of a dozen roses was razed. Since then my "silver garden" has grown, more or less, like Topsy. I plant, prune and pull things that thrive or don't. During winter and spring the garden tends to itself with a verdant display sprinkled with blues and purples.

Our patio, framed by our exterior decorating, is driven by my plant and pottery collection. (If you have more than one of a thing you are on your way to being a collector.) And I am well on my way to a collection of blue pottery, with a larger oriental oil jar hidden in the dark green clivia, and two herb pots, one ultramarine and another pale-blue violet. Last fall I reclaimed a bench from our basement, completely restored it and gave it a coat of turquoise paint. I like the blues being at the far edge of the spectrum to the natural colors. Right now the blues are bright touches, later in summertime the silvers with be cool and restful.

Can life be any better?