By Carrie Jacobson

Though we didn’t have a garden this year – a first in recent memory – the joys of the summer garden haven’t passed me by.

I’ve savored strawberries still warm from the sun, and sweet, thin-skinned cucumbers from my friend Pat’s garden.

I’ve served up squash and asparagus from Dulcie’s garden, so fresh you could nearly taste the breeze in them.

I’ve breathed the rich spice of roses, the heavy weight of gardenias, the soft powdery scent of camellias. I’ve smiled at the swaths of black-eyed susans that seem to be everywhere this year, and marveled at the showy frills of irises and lilies.

I’ve missed having my own gardens. But there’s always next year.

The title of this painting – my own little substitute garden – is the final stanza of a verrryyy long poem,  “The Poor Man’s Garden,”  by Mary Howitt:

Tags: Carrie Jacobson, carriejacobson, hollyhocks, palette-knife painting

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 22nd, 2013 at 6:30 pm and is filed under Carrie Jacobson. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.