a color story: edwards gardens daffodil party
flower power at my botanical garden
After a large family reunion, we visited Edwards Gardens, a botanical garden in Toronto. This park was a big part of my childhood. When I was 10, I used to walk there leisurely with my grandfather. Then, I biked through the park for Sunnybrook Hospital volunteering. After discovering a hidden trail, I biked through the park to get to downtown Toronto via Don Valley trail.
When we parked, the adjacent garden filled with daffodils. I was accustomed to the basic yellow ones (both face and mane). The garden, however, bloomed with variety of daffodils. From white manes to orange manes and in-between (beige), I felt a sense of aesthetic explosion. Have these flowers existed before?
Was this Edward's Garden?
As an amateur gardener, I could tell that professionals arranged the garden. I arranged daffodil bulbs in a basic one dimensional manner. I dug a hole, filled it with 10 bulbs. Repeated the process with bundles in a straight line along the edges of the garden bed. At the garden bed by the parking lot, the professionals took advantage of the wide space; they created large fluid-like shapes with the bulb bundles. The imaginary line wouldn't exist. In a way, the flower-filled shapes resembled abstract Matisse paintings - no sharp edges just a constant curve. On top of that, the interesting shapes acted like a jigsaw puzzle where it would interlink with other colored shapes. Orange, beige, white, yellow colors all had a sense of freedom and purpose. But together, the flowers created dynamic impression.
I summarized this as "flower power". Groovy.
The first time I visited this garden occurred 20+ years. Why was this new to me? Why was I amazed now? Was it because I have put enough "sweat equity" from my own daffodil experiences? Did I visualize the garden with my "sweat goggles"? Or did I visualize the garden as an amateur gardener with my "sweat knowledge"? If it was so, I wasn't ready for the garden's hidden beauty back then. In this sense, a familiar place felt unfamiliar. New territories have been crossed under the daffodil's influences. Passive enjoyment transformed into an active education.
The garden kept on giving.
Back at home, I saw my lonely yellow daffodils in their boring basic circle arrangement. I should step up my game. In the long run, the garden's return on investment was infinite and I have only touched the surface of its wisdom.