My Botanical Progressions

My mom created a yard filled with color, a three-season flowering symphony. I prefer to paint flowers rather than plant them, although I do both. As a young adult, there was a time when “Botanical Illustrator" could have been listed as my dream occupation, but since there was little call for that career Inside the Back Mountain, I bloomed where I was planted on a much wider path!

I’ve painted loose, free, flowing bouquets in watercolor. I’ve tried the “fill-every-inch-of-the-canvas-with-lush-blooms” like historic Dutch oil paintings. I’ve painted almost mural-sized still lifes with flowers in acrylic or casein, just for sheer joy! But, looking back, some of my most satisfying art moments were spent with my nose and my near-sighted eyes about four inches from a live floral specimen as I depicted leaves, petals, veins, buds, tiny hairs, and seeds. 

Years ago, I decided to paint a series of botanical illustrations depicting the trees, shrubs, bushes, and perennials in my yard as they changed appearance through the seasons. The project took me over three years. In order to document the budding, blooming, seed-forming, fruit-making, and dormancy stages, I kept close watch over eighty living models. Some had shorter availability for modeling, like the old-fashioned bleeding heart plants. They appear, grow fast, bloom, and then go dormant all in a few short months. Others, like my forsythia, exhibited swelling buds early in the spring, bloomed, then leafed out, and lasted into November before entering the wintering-over phase once more. There were days when I spent hours capturing blooms on various plants at their fullest. There were weeks when I worked on twenty plants at a time. I planned ahead, keeping a list of expected changes.

Because it was a personal project, I set my own rules: (1) Paint every day;  (2) Paint only from life, no photos allowed; (3) Paint only specimens from my own yard; (4) Paint seasonal progressions, one plant per plate (sheet of paper.) Since I began in January, for that first month I depicted twigs, cones, a few ratty-looking, winter-worn seed pods and early snow drop blooms. By March the excitement was building and by May that first year, EVERYTHING was in bloom! That's when I realized this project was going to take a few years to complete!

Once a huge, very hairy spider crawled out of a Rose of Sharon bloom and waved at me. I would have been more appreciative if he had continued to hide! For the record, I deposited him (or her?) humanely outside and checked the rest of my specimens very carefully after that! 

One night in a snowstorm I realized I still hadn't painted my botanical study. It was winter again and I was depicting tree, shrub, and bush twigs since their buds form the season before and change during the winter. Taking my long handled nippers, I went out to the side of the road and attempted to reach my hickory tree’s lowest twigs. It took a few practice leaps before I connected with a branch and managed to clip a specimen! I was a woman on a mission, and ignored the few cars which passed within a few feet of me in that snowstorm. It wasn't until I was back inside that I realized what a strange scene I must have made! 

Trips to Maine interrupted my paint-at-home schedule. For two summers, I clipped buds and blooms, packed them carefully in a small cooler and transported them Downeast. Days were spent painting on the coast of Mount Desert or Cranberry Island, while evenings and early mornings were spent painting in the campground with items from my cooler!

I still enjoy viewing my botanical plates and remembering fascinating facts I learned about plants. I enjoy the memories of Day Lilies, also called road lilies and ditch lilies. Truly, they do only last one day, and wilt before sundown, but both the buds and blooms are delicious when batter fried!

I cherish the memories of the juicy, sweet flavor of my black caps! Also called black raspberries, they are totally different from large, tart blackberries. The Old Fashioned Bleeding Heart still blooms hesitantly in its shady nook, a gift from an artist friend long ago. It brings back memories of my Great Aunt Laura’s flower garden as well. Unfortunately, the explosion of deer in my neighborhood has severely curtailed all of these in my current yard.

Still, soon we will be enjoying a symphony of color InSide the Back Mountain! What are your favorite plants? Have you ever tried to draw or paint them from life?

---

This article originally appeared in the May 2026 publication of InSide the Back Mountain.