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Last Sunday I worked in my garden for six hours, weeding evil wild strawberries. The mild winter has done wonders for this relatively tolerable weed, turning it into the 10-inch-tall, garden-chocking, monster! I did take a few breaks, though, to drink water and take pictures of flowers in my garden. The above photo was my favorite.
"Tulips and Creeping Phlox" was painted on Monday, because I couldn't wait, despite the general fatigue and bad aches in the neck and lower back. A couple of hours into painting, I no longer felt any fatigue. Perhaps, it was the pain killer. Or, I would like to think, the magic of art. The mauve tulips are the stars of the show. But without the chorus line of the blue creeping phlox, would they have worked as well?
By the way, the creeping phlox is the talk of my neighborhood. Three years ago, I transplanted a small clump, which was barely hanging on, chocked under yews, azaleas, and vinca vines, to the current open location under a mature crepe myrtle. Neighbors stop to ask us what it is, then compliment us on its beauty. My husband and I garden because we love flowers. But it's not just we, but the entire neighborhood, who get to enjoy them. I don't volunteer at Green Spring Gardens Park, which is not far from where we live. Nevertheless, I contribute to the community in my own way and am proud of it.
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