Tuesday, May 13, 2014
But flowers! I can do flowers. Flowers have always seemed fairly independent – just a little watering and a little deadheading and voila. I had no intention of trotting over to the garden center this Saturday but the thought came to me as I was doing errands that, on such a beautiful day, it was the place that made the most sense.
Years and years ago - what seems now like a lifetime ago because it was - I gardened. I grew flowers. I spent every weekend outside planting and pulling and watering and coaxing. On my birthday I would receive gifts like garden gloves, spades, clippers, sun dials, garden figures. One day while I was in the garden tending to a mound of Lantana, my next door neighbor ran over to tell me he had seen a hummingbird! "A humming bird!" he exclaimed. With my pruners I pointed to the feeder I set up between our yards. "Yes, they've been invited." It was a simple encounter, but seeing him so excited made me happy and I've remembered it ever since. Sadly, I think that was the last year I had hummers come to visit.
Life is fluid and things change. Sometimes (perhaps often) one gets thrown a curve ball and one's focus has to change as well. And in all that changing and figuring out and thinking hard and working even harder, little bits of yourself can get chipped away. It is almost imperceptible because the process is a slow one; but, it is a steady one. The truth is I had larger problems to solve than leaf mold. As a result the beds got buried under seasons of autumn leaves and eventually gardening gifts seemed impractical. Oh, every now and then I'd plant something in a pot or two but I never really returned to what I would call gardening gardening. That full-throttled, hearty digging, compost enriching, all-morning pruning, water soaked dirt fest. I stopped spending winter days looking through seed catalogs.
The happy news is that caught in time that fragmented and tangential change of course can once again be set right. It's like waking from a long nap and finding that the light has adjusted. It is brighter or darker, more golden or more fiery. Different...yes. But it is still all around and helping things to grow.
And thus awakened from my nap I spent the morning at the garden center considering the way the violet petunia looked with the chartreuse creeping jenny and debating if the dusty miller could get along with the orange Gerbera. I felt the pieces falling into place and I was once again on vaguely familiar ground. True, I had forgotten all the Latin names for the plants - something at which I was fairly proficient in the long-ago. But I recognized their faces and eventually we will become familiar friends once again. Admittedly it's just a small beginning, but I hope to stick with it. Outside is such a nice place to be and when I look over the terrain I envision all sorts of possibilities. Real gardeners are always looking for places to turn new earth. I just might be signing up for those seed catalogs after all.
I'm also sending out fauna invitations. I bought a bag of small bird seed (millet and the like) and one bag of Black Oil Sunflower seeds. Although my feeder is supposed to be squirrel-proof, I saw one very clever fellow hanging upside down by his hind legs and scooping out a pawful this morning. I am on the hunt for a baffle that will slip over the stand. I try to discourage squirrels since they are apt to rent out my attic during the winter and are very undesirable tenants. The cardinals honed in right away. Who else might come? In hopeful anticipation I brewed up a batch of nectar.
Coming back to gardening feels good. Coming back feels right. And, with enough enticement perhaps the hummingbirds will come back as well. Perhaps I should hang out a sign, "All Organic and Home Brewed." It might work.
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)