Fields of flowers

Photo by Paul L. Schuetze/The Times

Can we brag a bit?

It doesn’t translate via photo as stunning as it appears to the naked eye, but husband Paul L. Schuetze has worked long and through many summers and springs to field about two acres of black-eyed Susans on our seven acres.

He started with just a few plants that popped up as wild flowers do. They now stretch from the Old Road to what I refer to as "the creek" on both sides of the driveway and spread every year.

Nothing difficult about growing them really, except allowing them to seed annually. By the time the blossoms and plants have died back, the land looks really scrappy. But if you can endure it ... a field of black-eyed Susans is your reward.

Each Saturday, as we walk through the grounds, we also marvel over the day lilies retrieved from various sources. (Paul loves them because they are easy care. There are so many hues and sizes, some as small as a demitasse cup, others as large as porridge bowl.

We are waiting now for the moon flower vine, climbing on a post, and the hyacinth bean, clamboring over the mailbox, to burst into glorious blossoms.

And, this year, I have sweet peas for the first time! And larkspur! And poppies. My poppies are the palest of pink with a thread of white around the outer edge. Another style was plush and looked like a peony. (I had no idea what I was ordering and when they first came up we didn’t even know what they were until they started budding. But, then, that is sort of the way we garden.)

His tomatoes, squash, cucumbers and bell peppers are coming on — as are those of other gardeners on The Old Road.

And, Paul’s pride and joy: The small patch of zinnias he plants from seed every spring.

Each Saturday morning, I clip all the blossoms. I fill a red-accented white enamel pitcher and other vases with them for the kitchen table, window sill and guest bathroom.

The zinnias help make the hot summer worthwhile.

Because they are country beautiful and because Paul plants them for me.