Grounded
I think this is the least excited for fall that I have ever been. On more days than one lately I have found myself more nostalgic for spring than excited for colder weather. It’s an interesting change in my preferences, but I think it has everything to do with my garden.
When I need to turn my brain off, focus on something bigger than myself, forget my current situations — I go to the garden. What will I do this winter when this is taken from me? I’m not sure. But I am sure of the things my gardening has taught me this year.
After spending so much time weeding and creating my patio pots this spring, I was discouraged to find that some did much worse than others. It’s been encouraging, however, to see the lessons I can learn from these pots.
Out of three containers, the one that was closest to other plants (namely, my wildflower garden) did the absolute best. It in fact thrived this summer. Consequently, the pot furthest away from others did the worst, with the middle container living up to its name by doing slightly better than one and slightly worse than the other.
Growth comes from closeness with others. A simple lesson to learn from plants. We do OK, bloom a little, look pretty sometimes when we’re alone — but we really thrive when we grow and lean into those nearest us. We don’t push away.
Similarly, my miniature petunia hanging basket with vinca vines is constantly reaching for those closest, like my chives and basil. Even when I pick up the vine and remove it from the other plants, it always finds its way back.
But what about my mini garden daisies that somehow left the pot I placed it in and traveled to the cracks in the steps nearby — and grew?
Or the marigolds that I deadheaded and threw into the mulch — and bloomed shortly after.
Or the milkweed that looks atrocious but I didn’t weed because it feeds the monarchs and then the monarchs that came and enjoyed the tithonias (mexican sunflower) that I grew in the backyard.
And then there’s my grandparents old garden, that I didn’t tend to as well this year but still grew so much I had to shake the bees from the cut flowers I picked.
The wonders and lessons that come from a little bit of sunshine and water. Thats what a garden is to me. That’s what being grounded is.
