How Does My Garden Grow

A friend left a comment yesterday saying that the pictures of flowers I’ve been posting are inspiring her to plant more. I understand that — they’re inspiring me, too. Last year I had little interest in my yard. The work-to-result ratio just didn’t seem worth it, but this year, so far, the gardens are doing great, with bits of color popping up all over.

The freezes we had a couple of nights this week didn’t do much damage, just burned the edges of some leaves, but I don’t think it will affect the flowers this summer. Luckily, the snapdragons I planted late last spring turned out to be hardy enough to survive the winter as well as these freezes, so I’m much further ahead with that gardening area than expected. Look at all those buds!

Columbines are still going strong, and this self-seeder seems to be enjoying the companionship of other flowers.

A new volunteer has shown up — blue flax! They might have been in a package of wildflower seeds or been blown in, but the reason doesn’t matter, just the enjoyable fact that are here.

Oh, don’t let me forget the star of Bethlehem! They’re easy to forget because they don’t bloom until the afternoon around here, but so dainty and pristine!

The ice plants flowers are starting to bloom, adding more cheerful ground color to the garden.

The wild roses surrounding the raised garden seem to be waiting for May, when I can plant whatever it is I am going to put in that planter. Dwarf zinnia seeds, maybe?

Ah, May! The fifth of May, to be exact. That’s historically the last day of a possible frost around here, so that’s when I plan on getting petunias to plant in my containers and whatever catches my eye to fill in a few empty spots.

Until then, I’ll continue to appreciate my yard and try to find satisfaction in a job well done even if I don’t always enjoy the work.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

 

Today’s Garden Surprises

Shortly after I moved here, a neighbor let me transplant a bit of her far-ranging prickly pear cactus. I might not have been interested if I hadn’t just spent several years in the high desert of California. I’d often encountered such plants when I wandered in that rather tame wilderness, and her plant seemed to bridge some sort of mental or geographical gap in my psyche.

The prickly pear never really did well — most of the paddles gradually died, but there was no way I was going to touch that thing to remove it. It all but maimed me when I dug it up and replanted it that I didn’t want to ever do anything with it again. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Those prickles really hurt. Even wearing heavy work gloves didn’t keep my hands safe from all the pricks.

Last year I noticed a bit of green, and this year, although the dead paddles are still lying on the ground to remind me of less sublime times, the prickly pear is doing well. And look!

It bloomed for me!

That wasn’t the only surprise today. The rock roses seem to be taking hold.

The snapdragons are really going strong. Such pretty candy colors!

The calibrachoa flowers I’d planted in a hanging basket are also going strong.

And more hollyhock blossoms are peeping out at me.

It’s funny to think of myself as a gardener. I was one of those people who were seemingly born with a brown thumb — I couldn’t keep even the simplest plant alive. And now, so many flowering plants adorn my yard that it amazes even me.

Admittedly, most of the yard is dirt and weeds, and even the garden spots are rather sparse, though if you just see my photos rather than the yard itself, you’d think I have a lush yard. Maybe someday I will, but for now, I’m thrilled with any bits of life and color that manage to survive my inept care.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.