They were clinging to this rock, holding hands with the moss to stay atop their little world, doing their best to bloom. It was exquisite, a true miniature garden landscape occupying just a fraction of space in a much larger garden
This is just one of the hundreds of photographs I took while attending the Garden Writers Association's annual symposium in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Did you miss me while I was gone? I didn't post a thing on my blog the entire time. I didn't even post I would be gone because you just can't be too careful these days. Some of you might be plant rustlers, just waiting... I digress.
I took another picture at the end of the symposium, when I went on an optional tour to see two Frank Lloyd Wright houses, Kentuck Knob and Fallingwater.
From Kentuck Knob, you can see across the horizon to Maryland on the left and West Virginia on the right.
These two pictures pretty much sum up the experience of the symposium. From little ideas to mull over to big horizons to walk toward, I left with much to think about.
I started, or rather continued, mulling and thinking as soon as I got home and mowed the lawn. And I had a thought...
The story of a garden is ultimately the story of a gardener.
Once upon a time...