Finally, I’m out of my sickbed. A cough is hanging on and my back is still healing, but I managed to make it outside to the perennial garden for a slow walk.
Somehow, the plants coped nicely without me the past five days. In fact, the lavender is sweet and plush as if spring were about to burst. The salvia is in full bloom and a couple of humming birds have lingered longer this fall to take in the nectar. More volunteer chrysanthemums are popping up. I wonder where they got the energy to produce some many seeds.
The vegetable garden doesn’t look as good. The “eager farmer’s” boots have become a bird perch and his jeans are damp from dew, and I think from rain. Not sure about the rain because I was buried under the covers. The Brussels sprouts are growing but not without chewed leaves. The lettuce and spinach have disappeared. It seems I wasn’t the only one under attack.
Beneath my office window, these wild sunflowers are as sunny as fresh-squeezed orange juice. They keep blooming as if they’re made of silk and don’t need watering. They were in a wildflower seed packet from a fan (thank you), and I have to say their spunk perked me up.
This is part of what gardening is about, taking in the rewards of your labor when you’re too tired or sick to dig the earth, deadhead pansies, or sow lettuce seeds. Rarely do I enter the perennial garden without an agenda. Walking the grounds to observe, minus a trowel in my hand, was nice. Special.
Maybe it was time to slow down.
In and Around the Garden 