Joanne Dibble

greetings all-

i have not vanished, as evident by my continuing comments. i’ve
been preoccupied with poetry, and i’m also working on my gardening
grandmother’s life story. she was totally self-taught, yet beautifully
landscaped their farm and 20 acres of grounds during the 40″s and 50’s.
i have fond memories of the many liriope-lined paths under tall pines,
the grassy nooks with statues, her formal rose garden, and wild azalea
collections. she was a “tester” for Park seed Co. for southern range of new
“wild” varieties… and was one of the first to successfully grow their new
rhododendron cultivars in middle georgia.

she created a beautiful traditional Japanese garden in the overgrowth around a
small lakeon the property. it was hacked out of a swamp, with flourishing kudzu and
poison ivy, growing on the rich bottomland. it was a surprise for my grandfather’s
birthday. all the statuary, rocks, bridges and teahouse materials were imported
from korea and japan, as well as careful placing of some of the big native granite
rocks. many garden clubs from all around the southeast came to tour her gardens.
she was a very private person, but gracious enough to open her small paradise to all.

she and my grandfather had great interest in camellias, and both were expert
judges at many camellia shows. she learned to breed, hybridize, and created many
cultivars, now rare, but still in great demand at camellia nurseries today. i recall her
exchanging pollen with friends in california by mail, even from as far away as new
zealand! the extent of her skills was amazing to me- as a young girl. i followed and
watched her in her tall glass hothouse, full of grown camellias too tender for ga. cold
temps, as she worked pollinating and gibbing ( setting in a graft bud) her new creations.
she named them for all her family members- the one she named for me is a tiny
delicate shell pink… at this point in my life, i would be a big sloppy red flower! lol
many of her beauties still grow in the American Camellia Society’s gardens in
Ft. Valley, Ga. she was considered an expert in her field, and wrote many articles
in horticulture magazines of her time.

my grandmother, Emilie Jarasse Witman, was a great lady who never went without
her face cream every night ( she was French) but she was quite handy with a machete
or a hoe. she could kill a copperhead snake with one chop, without blinking an eye….
and then plan a cocktail party for the evening. her extensive horticultural knowledge
as well as her accomplishments left a great impression on me; because of her, i was
bitten early by the gardening bug. she “made” me into a gardening fool, and i am still
most grateful for all her influence, today!

vty, j-lea

here in the ga. piedmont, we are in the full flush of spring; the many sweet smells
of a dixie springtime are almost overwhelming in the still night air. a huge wisteria
vine climbs into my old magnolia tree; they seem to co-exist well, and i havent
got the heart to do the “right”thing, which would be cutting the vines out of the tree
[ it would take a bucket truck, anyway]
i am a laissez-faire gardener, and as the magnolia seems to flourish year after year,
i see no reason to deny myself the mixture of their heady scents, come summer.

the precession of fragrant blooms begin in late january, with winter honeysuckle’s
[ lonicera sp.] pale little waxy yellow blooms flooding the air with impossibly
strong lemony perfume. a “wake-up call” that winter’s end is near. this year
in spite of winter’s unusually cold temps, they arrived slightly later, but bloomed
profusely all through february. they are the first note in the song of fragrant early
flowers…directly after, the various narcissi appear, one by one and join their sweet
odor in harmony, onward into february’s cold snaps.

march blew in like a lion, but sunshine brought out a few early gold wild jasmine blooms,
as well as brilliant new green grass. the wisteria begins to flower, culminating in the huge
lush purple column, in full bloom in early april. the wild pear and pinklipped apple
blossoms sing of the coming early summer. two ancient black locust trees add hints
of vanilla to the chorus. their blooms are in small white cascades- quite similar to wisteria
clusters. the yard gardenias [and my bonsai dwarf] are full of palegreen buds. when they
come to blooming-time, within a week. the air will be intoxicating as a carefully
constructed french perfume, with its many layers of scents blended into a glorious whole.

the nights are a bit cool- ranging in the mid 50’s- but you can find me outside in the
wooden yard-chair,wrapped in a quilt…for hours i breathe this symphony of smells,
picking out the notes and harmonies until i am scent-drunk, and ready for bed.
with the nights warming and all my windows open, i rest in my bed with the
flower orchestra soothing me to sleep.

~soft hypnotic scents / floating in darkness / fragrant sedative~

vty, j-lea