May 12, 2010

I must get out into my yard. Way back when life was simple fresh and new I used to love my yard. Love in the verb sense of the word. I spent time rolling in the grass with my active boy and young Great Dane; I fiddled around in the tiny screened-in gardening shed pulling down cobwebs and arranging dusty clay pots; I spent weeks on my knees ripping ivy out by the roots so I could replace the pond-shaped patch with the garden growing in my mind. I planted herbs, columbine, Solomon seal, tomatoes, whatever I wanted to nurture and behold.

My yard today has many different and distinct sections. A mossy, cool front corner, a secluded fenced expanse in the back, a small herb garden between the drive and the basement door, wide open play spaces, a long mulched area hugging the house on the south side. Sometimes I don't know where to begin with my limited gardening time. I end up raking out a messy corner or mowing, endlessly. I trim up the honeysuckle on the weedy fenceline or rip the grass growing in the driveway seams while playing a halfhearted game of basketball with my sons. There is so much to do and so little time and energy to plan, prepare, design and execute. So I bend over and grab a dandelion.

There are dead limbs in my dogwood. The neighbor wanted the maple saplings on the border, so now years later there isn't enough sun for my annual favorite - and trademark to my garden -Mexican sunflowers. The vinca has overrun the bed along the garage office path. The azaleas I planted out front don't seem to like their home. The hydrangea near the hose has been beaten down to a stub. Thin limbs of the skypencils are hanging low from the snowy winter. I don't know what to plant in front of the porch after pulling up the old leggy bushes that grew there years ago.

My yard is still beautiful to me, springing alive with possibility today. It's calling me, dancing in place, igniting my inspiration:

More herbs!
Sculpted bushes!
Bulbs for next spring here!
These yuccas must go!
Rake these holly leaves!
I'm a perfect empty corner for something fantastic!
Notice how the bright green and purple spiderwort found itself growing in the cracks at the entrance to your back couldn't have planned that if you tried.


Mom said...

My yard calls me and I walk out and pull a few weeds and smell the pretty flowers, then my body tells me I am getting older and makes me go sit on the swing and just enjoy the wild beauty of God's creation.

rosemary said...

See Jennie, that's the difference between you and can write a post about gardening and have a poem at the end and it is lovely and I can picture you out there enjoying working with the bit@h the whole time and end up slicing my finger with some stupid garden tool I told Steve I didn't want in the first place. I figure if God wanted me to garden he wouldn't have bouquets and tomatoes at the entrance to Safeway.