In the midst of the suffering and ugliness in the world, let us seek and have gratitude for small blessings and beauty.

I have taken quite a fancy in how my 'sea-weed' Girly Steel sculptures complement the rust-orange color of our three staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina,) also known as velvet sumac. Had I known two months ago when we purchased these at Penrod Art Fair at the Indianapolis Museum of Art Gardens, that a big buck would again jump the cow fence and use the sumac on the right as a rub and midnight snack -- I would've bought more to act as a fence. 

In the midst of the pain, suffering and ugliness in the world, let us seek and have gratitude for small blessings and beauty.

Simply Cultivating . . . A Heartland Garden: Haters gonna hate, but creatives gotta' create.

Simply Cultivating . . . A Heartland Garden: Haters gonna hate, but creatives gotta' create.: Haters gonna' hate, but creatives gotta' create. I n the middle of two writing deadlines and an unfinished Bible Study a few week...

Haters gonna hate, but creatives gotta' create.

Haters gonna' hate, but creatives gotta' create.

In the middle of two writing deadlines and an unfinished Bible Study a few weeks ago, I got this urge. Maybe it was the onset of a deep desire to procrastinate — of which I am am considered a master craftsman. But in reality it was a beautiful, 59° autumn day and the sky was radiant with warm sunshine and raining leaves. 

I actually tried to talk myself out of it, but after three attempts bolted out the back door. When my husband curiously questioned, "whatcha' doing" — as he watched me criss-cross around our five-acres of leaves — I could only answer "I don't really know." 

I just had this urge to create a palette of color before these living organisms faded away — and this is the result:

I believe all artists — whether we act, sing, paint, garden, design, cook, draw, tell stories, write, play music or dance — get the urge to do what we're created to do because we were first "created in His image." The Creator created us to create. An no matter how silly it may seem at the time — sometimes you just gotta' open  the closet and grab the Play-doh.

What are you creating today?

Simply Cultivating . . . A Heartland Garden: My Garden Doesn't Sleep at Night

Simply Cultivating . . . A Heartland Garden: My Garden Doesn't Sleep at Night: My garden doesn't sleep at night — I have proof. Last evening on a cooler-than-usual July evening in the Indiana Heartland, I got an u...

My Garden Doesn't Sleep at Night

My garden doesn't sleep at night — I have proof.

Last evening on a cooler-than-usual July evening in the Indiana Heartland, I got an urge right before bedtime to grab my camera and set out into the dark of the night. I should warn fellow gardeners with a disclaimer that this 'extreme garden photography' sport can be dangerous and is not for the faint of heart. I didn't stop to think about the coyotes that roam the 100 acres next to our 5-acres. I didn't even care that I could have easily tripped and fallen face-first, probably bruising a knee from the garden hoses that someone left in the yard (yep, it was me.) Nothing would deter me: no skunks, raccoons, nor horrid voles or slugs that like to taunt me by nibbling on my prized hosts —  I was on a mission to find out what my garden looks like at night.

Here's the proof that my garden doesn't sleep at night.

Echinacea purpurea — purple coneflower that are beginning to attract the the gold finches. 

Hosta "American Icon" — a sport of H. "Choo Choo Train"

Tricolor ornamental pepper plant

Liatris spicata, the prairie gay feather 

Red Salvia seems to light up the night

(clockwise from top left) Hostas
'Great Expectations', "Sleeping Beauty' another 'Great Expectations' and 'Blue Angel'

Temari Red Verbena will continue to flower until frost.

Okay… maybe this one does sleep.

Thanks for stopping by Simply Cultivating —
and thank you for leaving a garden footprint with a comment or just say hello!

It is no wonder so much of gardening is done on one's knees: the practice of horticulture is a wildly humbling way to pass the days on Earth. Even the root of the word "humility" comes from the Latin humus (for "earth" or "ground"), and a good soil is rich in the paritially decayed plant and animal material we call that very thing.   — Margaret Roach

This summer I've been humbled by not only the beauty of the gardens I've had the opportunity to visit, but humbled by the hospitality of the gardeners. Gardeners are a unique breed of people — they are of the earth and grounded.

Last month in my Daily Journal column I wrote about my new friend Andrew Marcinko who had his buddy Tim Alford serve snow cones during their garden tour — best idea ever!
During this same Johnson County Garden Club's annual  ‘Stroll through the Neighborhood” we were invited to tour the phenomenal home and gardens of Indiana artist Raymond and Barbara Turner. 

And today I received my September/October issue of the Indiana Gardening Magazine published by State by State Gardening — I couldn't help smile when I turned to page 52-55 and recalled hanging out with Indiana Hosta Hybridizer Randy Goodwin. He's kind of a big deal and hero— and very involved with the Indiana Hosta Society and American Hosta Society.

Here are a few photos:

One of Randy and Susie Goodwins water features

Goodwins path to hosta heaven — which includes many that he has hybridized.

I love hanging out with gardeners — the good .scent of humility lingers
More to come later...thank you for stopping by!

The Best Use of a Garden...

My midwest garden had a fresh snow dump of 7-inches six days ago...and today the yard is brown and not quite emerging — soooooo.... the best way to add color is to add lots of people and celebrate Easter!

Easter, like spring, displays Faith.

Isaac enjoying the 59ºF Easter.

The triplets and Walter

Cousins Grace and Nev.

Drew celebrating his first Easter — 8 months old

Added a little color with a dozen lavender plants. 

Grandpa Frank hands out the big eggs.

Cousins Phoebe and Madi — high school juniors

Faith — one of the triplets

The glazed look means they were ready to eat.

Grandpa Frank with some of his grandchildren.