Wild Flowers

On a warm June afternoon, my sisters-in-law and I explored a natural treasure, Garden in the Woods in Framingham, Massachusetts. I didn't think of taking pictures until we were nearly through, so I cannot show it to you in its full context.

The cast of characters:
Gaye Prescott, Elaine Gallant, Me (the Shadow in the first two pics).

Elaine and Gaye were thrilled with the array of pitcher plants in the bog garden. Their delight drew my thoughts away from the dappled sunlight long enough to remember the camera in my pocket.

Elaine

Gaye

The Enchanted Setting: The botanical garden of The New England Wildflower Society --  at first glance, an Eastern mixed forest; at the next and every following glance, a magic wood densely packed with myriad wildflowers and shrubs, with the emphasis on those native to New England.

It's about trees, too. This astounding wolf pine,
with its many branchings, indicates this land was
once a farm field.

There was an art exhibit of improvised plant containers scattered throughout the park.

Girl Scouts devised this
repurposing of traffic signs as plant pots.

Many of the exhibits were humorous.
This fire hydrant spouted grass
instead of water.

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We took a side trail along some interconnected babbling brooks and finally found a bridge low enough that our bare feet could reach the cool water. We sat and talked and dabbled and marveled at the blue and silvery green darning needles dancing in the air. Although several parties of walkers crossed our footbridge, and even spoke longingly of the coolness of the brook, no one joined our dabble.

Seeing the sun slant lower, we put our shoes back on and headed for the gate. But the garden had a lot more to show us.

An overview of the lily pond.

The Garden also harbors enchanting fauna.
See this tiny frog, huddled for perfect
camouflage in a tree hole.

We arrived back at the gate, to our surprise well after the garden had closed. A volunteer was sweeping out the shop, but did not chide us for dallying in the garden. He seemed to take it as a matter of course that people would want to come and stay, enjoying not only the flowers but the comfortably rustic benches scattered liberally along the paths.

We had made one swing through the garden shop on our way in, and each had plans to stop there on the way out. "Sorry, closed for today." This shop and the perpetual plant sale are the final enchantment on the theme of "gardens" -- offering nothing like the usual nice gift shop merchandise. I will have to go back another day to get Roy his one-of-a-kind, handmade, glass hummingbird feeder.  Will you come, too?