The other morning I was doing something that I like to do when the weather is nice at the Manse, which is to take a slow walk around the exterior of the house, coffee cup in hand, and survey everything that’s going on with building and grounds. As I rounded the northeast corner of the front of the house, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of something entirely unexpected.
Regular readers might recall a post from a couple of weeks back wherein I recounted my lifelong love of phlox, kindled by the bounteous and beautiful phlox bushes that once upon a time lined the fence of the house across the road from the Manse. As I wrote then, the smell of phlox takes me right back to those happy childhood days. And the pink and red and white and mauve colours are so beautiful! In the post I announced my determination to plant some phlox at the Manse.
When I came across the pretty pink phlox the other morning, my first reaction was that I must have been blind not to have noticed it before. Or maybe the plant had been there all along but had just recently bloomed? (We hadn’t been to the Manse for almost a month prior to last weekend’s visit.)
But I think I know what really happened. I think some thoughtful soul in Queensborough who had read my post took it upon himself or herself to transplant some phlox as a gift and a surprise. Raymond says no way, that the ground doesn’t look like it has been disturbed; and he’s right, it doesn’t. But I still think I have someone to thank, and I hope my anonymous phlox benefactor will step forward so that I can do so. You have made me very happy!