Rose and I flew to Washington last Saturday, a few hours after devastating tornadoes tore through our beloved Kentucky. My heart aches.
The remnant storm winds shaved 15 minutes off the hour and-a-half flight. We came to D.C. to check on Aunt Rose’s house and garden in Georgetown. She passed over a year ago. In the interim, Rose has been decluttering and sprucing up.

The Artist’s Garden at Eragny, Camille Pissarro, 1898.
There was another mission.
Aunt Rose’s ashes now lie in rest. I won’t say where.
On many visits here, over 25 years, we would go down to the National Mall and visit the National Gallery of Art. There were always other stops nearby for gardens of joy.

Still Life with Insects and a Snail, Clara Peteers c.1610.
I didn’t grow up visiting museums. I have no memory of going to Louisville’s Speed Museum in my childhood. My interest in art didn’t begin until my mid-20s, simultaneous with my blooming passion for gardening. In the winter of 1976, I traveled alone through Europe on trains and busses, my destination always a museum or a garden.
On this latest visit to the National Gallery we went straight to the Vermeer and DaVinci paintings—Aunt Rose’s favorites—but soon the rich abundance of flowers and fruits, adjacent to the portraits, came to life. I’d seen many of these paintings before, but Aunt Rose was drawing me closer still.

Girl with a Flute, attributed to Johannes Vermeer, 1665-1675.

The Artist’s Garden at Vetheuil, Claude Monet, 1881.

The Artist’s Garden at Eragny, Camille Pissaro, 1898.

The Artist’s Garden at Eragny, Camille Pissaro, 1898.
We returned home three mild, cloudless days later, to a Commonwealth still in shock.
We are closing in on the winter solstice. What’s left will be uncertainty and a slow walk toward spring.
This winter I will search for beautiful flowers at Louisville’s Speed Museum and pray for the blessings of cherry blossoms next spring on the National Mall Tidal Basin.
It’s good to hear of the comforting part of your trip amongst the other hard, indeed some appalling, things, and to see such comforting pictures. Though I can’t quite believe that that’s a Vermeer…
Regarding the painting, the way the light is shining is very Vermeer, and I think that’s why it may be attributed to him. But I agree that other features, especially the face, don’t look like one of his works.
Agree with both of you. The face is way, way off for a “Vermeer,” imo.
But the NGA in DC, both buildings, is one of America’s greatest treasures. Everlasting thanks to Paul and Ailsa Mellon for giving it to us.
Wishing a safe, sane, grateful, healthy Christmas and Holiday Season to all on here.
Wishing also for a better 2022 for our nation with heartfelt gratitude to the amazing but sadly beleaguered (and why, pray tell?) capable, honest, hardworking, ethical Joe Biden. And Mrs. Dr. Jill Biden.
Diane in warm, sunny but drought- stricken Colorado
❤️
Allen,
Our thoughts and hearts are with you, your family, our amazing Governor and our commonwealth in these trying times.
From Covington.
Craig and Donna
Always great to read your words, Allen.
So pleased that your mid-70s tour of Europe included Kew!!
Thanks, Pete. Kew was one of my first stops on the tour in late fall 1975. I didn’t know, at the time, I’d luck out a few years later and land there for a year. What a gift.
Love the title.
I grew up in nearby Arlington and visited many times. Seeing those paintings again are like visiting old friends.
Yes, that is a beautiful title and thought.
Heart rending and heart comforting post. Horror, sadness, comfort and gratitude… our very real world.
But isn’t the first ‘Garden at Erganey’ one of Van Gogh’s paintings? I’d guess your too-full heart just wasn’t — appropriately — worrying too much about picture captions.
This is a lovely tribute to Aunt Rose. I’m glad she’s at rest and you are back home.
When I heard of the devastating storms in Kentucky I immediately hoped that you were not affected by them. So glad to hear you and your family are safe. It means a lot to return to the sites where you had so many good memories. I am sure Aunt Rose was smiling down as you remembered her through the beautiful painting.s
I’ve been so worried about you, and broken hearted about the devastating storms. I not only look forward to your posts, I’ve been searching the archives for your rants, because I can’t get enough of your writing! Thanks for sharing beauty during this time of such loss.
Thank you for the sentimental gallery tours. Now I want to see more.