As the weather starts to slowly get colder, the rain more prevalent, and the evenings darker, it’s obvious that I’m saying a small goodbye to the summer each day at a time.
This is, of course, perfectly normal and cyclical. I am not a fan of colder weather and darker days, but I love the crisp breeze and colourful leaves. I am not a fan of skeletal trees and freezing winter rain but I love the possibility of snow (possibility is all I get where I live now but one can live in hope for a good snow fall every once in a while). I am not a fan of how long the spring here stays cold, but I love the smell of fresh wet earth as if I am smelling it waking up from slumber. I am not a fan of massive heat and humidity together, but I love the bright summer sunshine and the fact that it stays bright here almost until 10pm. All seasons have their beauty and drudgery. What we relinquish each season we get to look forward to again when the cycle renews itself.
However, this summer I’ve been saying goodbye to something else that’s been a part of my routine for the last couple of years that I may very well not see again next summer, and that is the chaotic, riotous, wild and beautiful front garden full of daisies that I pass by daily on my way to and from creche.
As I previously wrote in my In Memoriam post, I learned earlier this year that the owner of this house passed away. Undeterred by the departure of their cultivator, the perennial flowers pushed their way through to bloom this summer as before, if maybe a little less neatly, and I have been enjoying a long stretch this summer of getting to see the giant daisies in their various stages of blossoming (#139, #150, #169).
However, last month I also saw something else appear over the garden, and that is a For Sale sign. It was inevitable, of course, that the house would be sold since the owner lived there alone. And since it’s prime real estate in a highly desirable location in Dublin the house sold quickly. The For Sale sign is now marked as Sale Agreed. Even with needing some repairs and renovations, the house sold quickly and for quite a tidy sum. If all goes smoothly, it will have new owners by the start of the new year. Perhaps they will move in, or perhaps they will let the place out – it’s impossible to know.
It’s also impossible to know if I will once again see the daisies I have come to love next summer. Perhaps the hardy plants will once again shoot up when the weather gets warm. Maybe the new owners will not have had time (or the inclination) to landscape. But it’s equally likely that come next summer the wild and haphazard small garden will have been tamed and transformed into something neatly manicured and tidily laid out. Or perhaps (I shudder to think) it will be landscaped to something absolutely minimal and low maintenance – pebbles and some hardy evergreen potted plants that need almost no looking after.
So as I have been saying goodbye to the summer, I have been saying a possibly more permanent goodbye to the giant daisies that have cheered me up so often the last two years. I will have to look for some other source of early morning cheer next summer if they find themselves not to be to their new owners’ taste.
So thanks for growing toward the sun and blooming. And thanks for making me smile.
The Feathered Rose 