A Northwest Wetlands Garden

I was probably close to Avery's age when I learned the song, "English Country Garden." Our church (as I recall) was having a Mother-Daughter Tea, and my ever-involved mother thought it would be lovely to recruit a chorus of darling girls to serenade the event. My sister and I, always up for a shindig, eagerly donned calicos, tied ribbons in our braids, and memorized the repertoire (which also included "Tea for Two").

I wish I could remember more of the event, but what I do know is that lyrics have a way of sticking with me. Whenever I see foxgloves or snowdrops, I see them in melody. (Similarly, whenever I look through the books of the New Testament, I sing my way through Paul's letters. And thank goodness for the melody that enabled me to master the order of the minor prophets.)

Sister and I walked the pond this afternoon, and the foxglove in bloom brought the song once again to mind.

How many kinds of sweet flowers grow
In an English country garden?
I'll tell you now of some I know
And those I miss I hope you'll pardon.
Daffodils, heart's ease and flox
Meadowsweet and lady smocks
Gentle lupine and tall hollihocks
There are foxgloves, snowdrops, forget-me-nots
In an English country garden.

I think that's the version I learned, although I've seen a few variations.

My own Northwest wetlands version would probably go something like this:

How many kinds of wildflowers grow
In a Northwest wetlands garden?
I'll tell you now of some I've seen
And those I miss I hope you'll pardon:
Blackberry and wild, wild rose,
Clover, daisies -- lots of those,
Lupine, poppies like cups of gold,
Hawthorne, foxgloves, Anne's lace, and lilies bold
In a Northwest wetlands garden.

There was no calico today, but there was a darling girl of ten (sans braids) who didn't mind my foxglove serenade one bit. "How many kinds of sweet flowers grow . . . ."