[I'm sneaking one more summer garden post in before the calendar says Autumn is here tomorrow.]
What possible link could my canna have with Povel Wallander?
Are there any Wallander fans out there? I watched it years ago and am now enjoying it all over again on Netflix.
Povel is the father of Kurt Wallander, played by Sir Kenneth Branagh, once married to Emma Thompson who he left for...wait, this is not a gossip blog so I'll get back to Povel and my canna.
Did you recognize David Warner, above, as Bob Cratchit in my favorite version of A Christmas Carol with George C. Scott as Scrooge?
What is your favorite version? We'll be watching it soon, won't we?
David Warner has that marvelous craggy face that I'm sure any Star Trek fans will recognize--I had to throw that in for my Trekkie sons.
And in the Swedish drama Wallander, he plays an important artist in declining health who is not on very good terms with his policeman son.
And every single picture Povel paints is the same scene of the rocky wooded coastline of Sweden where he lives.
Every single painting.
And now we come to my canna, the canna musifolia bulb (or is it called a rhizome?) that I ordered from
Horn Canna Farm, a family farm in Carnegie, OK.
RH planted it for me in a favorite heavy old concrete pot from the old house that had lost its bottom. It is beautifully aged, much as Povel's face is, and is sunk into the ground in the butterfly garden.
I've taken hundreds of pictures of this canna because I wanted it so badly. RH is prejudiced against cannas. He won't admit that but I know he is. Many people are, maybe remembering them planted in the middle of old tractor tires out in a farm yard. To me they always said, This is a farmhouse and so there must be cannas.
While a baby, my canna had to be protected from BreeBree jumping into it in her obsessive desire to catch a chipmunk, but it grew...
And grew until RH began to be fond of it too.
Finally it flowered...
Okay, the flowers aren't what sell cannas but the hummingbirds do love them.
We took pictures of it from every angle...
It put on more and more stalks...
Soon RH got used to me yelling to grab the camera and go get pictures of my canna, the light is just right.
I mean, is this plant not gorgeous with the sun shining through its bronze leaves?
This brown-eyed Susan has been a beautiful companion on one side, even though mostly finished blooming by now, the seeds drawing goldfinches.
And this Autumn Joy sedum has been a nice contrast on the other side. It's beginning to pink up for Autumn. [The plant is much more rosy now as I wrote this post a week ago.]The deer keep our other three Autumn Joy plants nibbled to the ground in our front garden but they can't get to this one.
I'm tagging my other canna lover...
Carla from The River
before I close with a quote about cannas from a beloved book by Richardson Wright that stays on my bed table, The Gardener's Bed-Book.
Give a dog a bad name, and he may eventually retrieve his reputation, but let a flower suffer the sneers of the gardening cognoscenti, and all the fine hybrids of it that some faithful soul may create will flower to little advantage. Cannas are a case in point. Mention them, and across the mind flashes unlovely memories of dreary park, prison and hospital flower beds. For years the Canna was an institutional flower, and that's enough to damn any plant. Yet some very beautiful hybrids have been created and at the sight of them we waxed ecstatic over their subtle pinks and yellows. They have ceased being institutional.
The Gardener's Bed-Book
if you've never loved cannas planted in the ground, have you ever thought about putting them in pots?
I keep imagining how magnificent two of these would be in large urns on either side of a path leading somewhere. What do you think?
And let me know if you want to see more pictures of my gorgeous canna that adds a vertical feature to our garden.
Just like Povel Wallander, I have a million of them.
Hey, sweet readers, thank you so much for visiting me here at the Window! And thank you so much for your thoughtful and kind comments on my previous post about our darling granddaughters.
You are the best!
"And what would life be like
if we paid one another no compliments?"
wonders Isabel in
The Careful Use of Compliments
by Alexander McCall Smith