Around every corner of Bellingrath Gardens, we were greeted by water music–a pleasant surprise. I’ve never visited grounds with more water features. They tinkled. Rushed. Susserated. Whispered. Beckoned. Rendered Mobile’s heat and humidity feel a smidgen less oppressive.
The flowers were lovely. The docent informed us volunteers and workers replanted the gardens every three weeks. Not the bones of the gardens, of course. Attractive trees formed the backdrop for the plantings lining the walkways. The mature camellias and azaleas must be lovely when blooming, but both seasons were long past by May’s end.
A drawback to Bellingrath was the lack of plant identifiers. I was not the only one longing to know what a few of the less familiar plants were. I saw others plying volunteers with questions. What explains our desire to categorize and label everything in our world? Perhaps the beauty of the plantings should be enough to satisfy, but it wasn’t. I wanted to know I suppose it’s how we organize information in our minds, how we remember it.