Thomas Jefferson’s Floral Ballet: A Letter from Monticello
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
May 26, 1811
On this day, dear readers and fellow gardeners, we find ourselves privy to a most charming correspondence between the esteemed Thomas Jefferson and his granddaughter, Anne.
As we delve into this intimate familial exchange, prepare to be transported to the verdant gardens of Monticello and the poetic musings of one of America's founding fathers.
Picture, if you will, the scene: young Anne, away visiting her in-laws, receives a letter from her grandfather.
The paper, perhaps faintly scented with the blooms of the season, bears these words:
Nothing new has happened in our neighborhood since you left us.
The houses and trees stand where they did.
The flowers come forth like the belles of the day, have their short reign of beauty and splendor, and retire like them to the more interesting office of reproducing their like.
The hyacinths and tulips are off the stage, the irises are giving place to the belladonnas, as this will to the tuberoses etc.
Oh, what a delightful tableau Jefferson paints with his words!
Can you not envision the grand parade of blooms, each having its moment in the spotlight before gracefully exiting stage left?
The comparison of flowers to "belles of the day" is particularly charming, evoking images of colorful petals as full skirts twirling in a ballroom.
Jefferson's keen observation of the changing floral guard - from hyacinths and tulips to irises and belladonnas, and the promise of tuberoses to come - speaks to his intimate knowledge of his garden's rhythms.
One can almost feel the passing of spring into summer through his eloquent description.
Alas, dear readers, the summer of 1811 was not to be a bountiful one for Jefferson's gardening pursuits.
Our founding father found himself largely confined to his bed, his arthritis flaring up with a vengeance.
One can only imagine the frustration of this active mind and body, forced to observe the changing seasons from afar rather than immersing himself in the soil and greenery he so loved.
As we reflect on Jefferson's letter, let us take a moment to appreciate the timeless nature of gardening.
The flowers that graced Monticello in 1811 continue their cycle of beauty and renewal in our own gardens today.
And like Jefferson, we too can find solace and joy in observing the ever-changing tapestry of nature, even when we cannot actively participate in its cultivation.
Until next time, dear readers, may your gardens flourish, your letters be filled with floral metaphors, and may you always find beauty in the cyclical nature of your blooms.