The water lilies, irises and Japanese lotuses were stuffed into whatever pots and containers could be found. Almost none of the delicate water plants were in bloom yet. Their pink, yellow and white petals were in danger of missing their debut.
The pump that had fed fresh water from the Elk River up to the well-kept water garden was shot, killed by the same floodwaters that destroyed properties throughout nearby Clendenin. Gone, too, was the man who had ceaselessly tended to those plants for decades.
Harmon G. Young II, 84, died in his home on June 25, after floodwaters ravaged communities along the Elk River and swept through the 265 acres of land that has been in his family since the turn of the 19th century.
The idyllic tract of property along the Elk River, just south of Clendenin, stood witness to the same brutal display of force that was experienced all over northern Kanawha County on June 23.
Power poles had been snapped, three of the four houses on the property were damaged beyond repair and the contents of those homes and the half-dozen other buildings on the property were all but ruined. The walkway that had been built over the larger water garden next to Young's main residence was in shambles. The wooden steps and pathways that his grandchildren used to play on were in a heap.
There is much that can't be saved, but Carol Hill, Young's daughter, is determined to salvage one thing. She has made it her mission to find another home for the water plants that her father cherished so much.
In some ways, Hill's hope of saving some of her father's plants is a coping mechanism, she said. A lot of her father's possessions that were damaged by the flood have been thrown out. But if she can get someone to adopt just a few of the lily pads that are still holding on, his work - and his memory - might persist.
"It's kind of dad's legacy," she said, as she overlooked one of the two water gardens on the property. "I wouldn't have to give them all away, just a few. That way a part of dad would live on."
On Saturday, Hill and her family were busy cleaning up the outbuildings at her childhood home, where her father died less than a day after surviving the floodwaters.
The 84-year-old Clendenin resident does not seem to be on the state's nameless list of flood victims, but his family still considers his death to be flood related. They had spoken with him Friday, but when they finally made it to his home Saturday morning, they found him on the floor of his kitchen. His dog was chained outside with fresh food and water.
The family didn't know what medical examiners had ruled as the cause of death.
If he hadn't battled floodwaters, Hill believes her father would still be with them, enjoying walks around his property and preparing for Sunday service at the Clendenin United Methodist Church, where he had sung in the choir.
In some regard, Hill is glad her father didn't have to see the immense damage caused to the property that he had meticulously maintained for decades. "I'm not so sad that he's not here to see this," she said.
His land had been a huge part of his life for years. His family still affectionately refers to him as Farmin' Harmon.
When Hill was really young, she can remember her father working as the local milkman. He had 20 to 25 cows that produced dairy that he would sell to people in Clendenin and the surrounding area. That was before he realized he needed to make more money for his family and he went to work for Union Carbide.
That green thumb of his never disappeared, though, Hill said. He never stopped cultivating, gardening and weeding his little patch of paradise.
He would grow just about anything, she said. On several occasions he grew 200-pound pumpkins. He started his water gardens more than 15 years ago. One time he grew okra, even though nobody wanted it. The point was, he could grow it. So he did.
Much of his agrarian work is still evident on the property. His mark is everywhere.
Young stalks of bamboo were already rebounding from the floodwaters that had swept over them. There were large and small apple trees all over the property. Next to every outbuilding and sidewalk there were grapevines climbing in every direction, many already flush with this year's bunches. A giant mulberry tree was encircling a corner of the only salvageable house on the property.
Hill, her sister and her brother fondly remember growing up around the gardens, orchards and vineyards that their father had built.
"It was like living in a fairy tale," said Mary Jo Panaro, Young's daughter. "A few weeks ago, this was a paradise."
The old Farmall tractor that Young had used to plow his expansive vegetable garden was still in one of the weathered sheds on the property. As she looked over that old piece of equipment, Hill recounted riding on the tractor with her father as the two-stroke engine putted along, pulling the plow through the earth.
She and her siblings would often follow behind, collecting worms from the freshly-tilled earth so they could go fishing in the nearby pond afterward.
The family hopes to save at least one of the homes on the property, but without her father around to care for the delicate water plants, Hill said they won't survive.
She has already reached out to garden clubs and local greenhouses, searching for someone to take the plants in. None of it has worked.
Hill has been able to deal with the loss of photographs and family antiques that were stored throughout the property, but there is something about the flowers that has pushed her.
"These plants are still kind of smiling at me," she said.
Reach Andrew Brown at andrew.brown@wvgazettemail.com, 304-348-4814 or follow @Andy_Ed_Brown on Twitter.