![loving-music-is-loving-life:
sailor moon used to be my favorite thing in the world. this is too much =]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/ff28c7e266710b95f0ece81828936aef/tumblr_mlx6sfnDIZ1qbl3hfo1_500.jpg)
sailor moon used to be my favorite thing in the world. this is too much =]
![voyezcetentrelacsdepines:
Impermanence. It’s something that I often ruminate on, and I’m slowly realizing that this is one of the major factors that draws me to the garden. Because time is all relative here. And in the back of my mind, I know that it really is a futile effort. Splashes of colors appear, turns to brown, gathered in to heaps, spread around, and then colors again, back to brown, and on. If I uproot my life here once again, everything will eventually be covered by weeds, devoured by small creatures, and it’ll be just as I found it almost 4 years ago. Maybe the Lily of the Valley and the Ajuga will continue to spread on, but slim chance for my beloved Anemone above.
Maybe it’s just as well that I have not much to show for all my efforts. After all this time, I’ve been doing a terrible job at documenting, though a very select few know that I have tried. But now it’s spring again, and like a proud mother, it’s difficult to resist the urge to show it off to everyone. I am well aware that most people in the world consider baby picture sharing to be a more acceptable annoyance than plant picture sharing. But as long as I’m learning something from this, I think it’s okay.
Anemone, was name of an izakaya near my house where I grew up, next to my mother’s health club. I fell in love with it when I saw it for the first time, because I thought it looked more like a cartoon flower than anything I had ever seen. Anemone coronaria was the first bulbs I’ve ever planted in the garden. I was beyond ecstatic when it bloomed for the 2nd year.
According to wikipedia:
Greek anemōnē means “daughter of the wind”, from ánemos “wind” + feminine patronymic suffix -ōnē.[4] The Metamorphoses of Ovid tells that the plant was created by the goddess Venus when she sprinkled nectar on the blood of her dead lover Adonis. The name “windflower” is used for the whole genus as well as the wood anemone A. nemorosa.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/f64440de1fb36b42c93b0bbb28045ec8/tumblr_mlsg644Rbs1rham19o1_500.jpg)
Impermanence. It’s something that I often ruminate on, and I’m slowly realizing that this is one of the major factors that draws me to the garden. Because time is all relative here. And in the back of my mind, I know that it really is a futile effort. Splashes of colors appear, turns to brown, gathered in to heaps, spread around, and then colors again, back to brown, and on. If I uproot my life here once again, everything will eventually be covered by weeds, devoured by small creatures, and it’ll be just as I found it almost 4 years ago. Maybe the Lily of the Valley and the Ajuga will continue to spread on, but slim chance for my beloved Anemone above.
Maybe it’s just as well that I have not much to show for all my efforts. After all this time, I’ve been doing a terrible job at documenting, though a very select few know that I have tried. But now it’s spring again, and like a proud mother, it’s difficult to resist the urge to show it off to everyone. I am well aware that most people in the world consider baby picture sharing to be a more acceptable annoyance than plant picture sharing. But as long as I’m learning something from this, I think it’s okay.
Anemone, was name of an izakaya near my house where I grew up, next to my mother’s health club. I fell in love with it when I saw it for the first time, because I thought it looked more like a cartoon flower than anything I had ever seen. Anemone coronaria was the first bulbs I’ve ever planted in the garden. I was beyond ecstatic when it bloomed for the 2nd year.
According to wikipedia:
Greek anemōnē means “daughter of the wind”, from ánemos “wind” + feminine patronymic suffix -ōnē.[4] The Metamorphoses of Ovid tells that the plant was created by the goddess Venus when she sprinkled nectar on the blood of her dead lover Adonis. The name “windflower” is used for the whole genus as well as the wood anemone A. nemorosa.
