Windchimes

bell(e)s

I've started collecting windchimes.

We have a long front porch, covered, and there are lots of hooks to hang things from. Last year, I tried hanging plants, specifically, geraniums. Geraniums, more than any other flower, remind me of France. Not Paris, although one does see geraniums there, too, but the smaller cities, especially the medieval ones. Other kinds of flowers fill plenty of spaces, but geraniums always stand out. I visited a little coastal town in Brittany called Piriac sur Mer two years ago, and have a photo of me and a friend there, walking under a huge mass of them. I love red. So, I bought some geraniums in hanging baskets last spring, and hung them on the front porch.

Then, I had to be away for the entire month of May, for my mother's final hospital stay. When I got back, the geraniums were in their last throes, parched. I'd forgotten all about them, and everyone else had, too. I never thought to call home to remind someone to water the flowers. There was no saving them.

Nowadays, windchimes hang from almost every porch ceiling hook. I've just recently bought some herbs and potted them in terra cotta. Three kinds of basil (lemon, spicy globe, and sweet basil) some parsley, and marjoram. First living plants I've bought since then. Here's hoping they survive. I doubt I'll be gone for more than a week at a time anytime soon, so they should be o.k. My windchimes assure me with cheery sights and sounds and no worries about watering.

J.H. Larrew
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