For my wandering, wondering gardener

He is no Mellors--he'll blush at this reference to the D.H. Lawrence novel. Our garden is a potted one, mostly. The semi-wild growth in the frontyard is more the village gardener's doing.I haven't gotten down to counting how many pots we have on the balcony and veranda (aren't these two spots the same?), but our resident gardener takes pains to water, weed, trim them each morning. When the rare visitor comes and compliments him for the loving tending he has done, said visitor can expect to go home with a pot.

The gardener by avocation applies his real vocation, reading and evaluating the news, at a cafe called Rocky Master.

Months ago, he chose to retire from teaching for among many reasons to have more time for a home life, his garden included. He and work had been inseparable for decades that without his knowing, the children had grown and were making adult choices that hardly required their consulting him anymore. So in August, he and I visited our youngest daughter Ida in Singapore on her birthday weekend. She had chosen an expatriate's life and had matured almost overnight. Gone were traces of our baby.

On our last day, he and I were at Changi International Airport, hours early for the flight home. I was immediately drawn to this moving sculpture that had a hypnotic effect, perhaps enhanced by soothing music that included sounds of swishing, splashing water. This work is called "Kinetic Rain", a creation of an art collective called ART+COM. Awestruck, I spent several minutes watching this bronze-colored raindrops move in different but synchronized directions.

Later, I walked around till I found a huge vase of flowers and took photos of the mini floral paradise in it. All these sights convinced me that terminals ought not to be sterile, boring places. They can and should offer the traveler on her brief stop during her journey some respite, an aesthetic solace that reflects the culture of a place. Haven't we had enough of high-end and lowbrow shops for last-minute pasalubong shopping?

Wet anthurium leaf

Sometimes mistaken for plastic but quite real

Pink orchids, are they?

This may be a yellow cup of gold.

As for these lime green spiky bulbs, the only adjective I can think of to describe them is "inflorescent."

I'm guessing these are lilies.

 

In a day or two, I will be back to our potted garden, to my older daughter Kimi, her own Kai and my shy Mellors who would rather bury his head in a newspaper or in his hobby, one of many, of being God's botanical steward.

Till then, I remain a faithful admirer and amateur "documentator" of things evergreen, ever-rainbow on earth.

Photos by Babeth Lolarga