Winter is generally when I best shiver over a keyword in black mitts with a mug of cider or chai and pound out long wordy paragraphs dripping in self-reflection as a tool of procrastinating taxes or client work. Sometimes published, oftentimes not, they languish around waiting for a blog or social media home. Waiting for my writer pal, Cheryl, to send me a nag text. Waiting for their release into the wilds of the internet, frowning when their author mom chickens out and stashes them in yet another Windows folder.
Then, a warmish day and 2 daffodils later, spring fever hits and I’m bolting out the front door, leaping down the steps, garden tools in hand ready to dig in the mud, hunched over the weedeater, smack talking crabgrass, and going door-to-door begging for river stone and orphan perennials from neighbors.
This year was no exception.
What sent me down the garden path of responsibility abdication this year was an exciting gift of 6 trees. One tree I requested through an energy saving trees program, a Japanese Plum with beautiful burgundy leaves. It got a bit windblown on its journey from the Peace Bell in Newport when my neighbor and I put it in the back of her little red pickup truck. But happily, new growth showed up and “Plum” has persevered even when beetles chomped her in June and I neglected to water her while road tripping in July.
The other 5 trees were planted during a neighborhood planting event on a cold spring day. It was a lucky gift. They were healthy and in huge pots with big root balls. Four Sweet Gums and a Serviceberry were assigned by the Covington Urban Forestry Board to my little corner and really filled in nicely the empty mulchy spots left by the two enormous elm trees that had to be removed after they died. The neighbor kids had been calling the dead trees the “haunted” trees because they looked so forlorn. The Sweet Gum trees did very well especially when the city attached water bags. The Serviceberry bloomed but has been struggling a bit. Am hoping it will come back to a perkier status in the spring.
Adding to the perennial beds with gifts of bulbs and roots from neighbors has been the best distraction this year. The apricot tree bore it’s first fruit which the squirrels rudely ate without sharing so much as a morsel. Neighbors thanked me for my efforts, curious pre-teens stopped and asked “what plant is that?” and then continued to flip flop their way to the Dairy Queen.
Everything is quite dry now thanks to mid-90 degree temps in September and spider webs are everywhere. Sparrows seem to be enjoying the crabgrass seeds and pollinating bees and monarchs are still fluttering around the Red Sedum and the last few purple butterfly bush bouquets.
Gardening won, indeed, in 2019.
Recent Comments