Planting is, in many ways, the final frosting in establishing a new flower field. Clearing a space, digging up weeds, rocks and chunks of clay soil, bringing in compost, then a thick layer of mulching chips -- those are tough jobs. Putting an infant plant into a newly created space is the joyous denouement.
So why am I in such a hurry to get this last beautiful job done? Why work so hard every day? Like today: from right after breakfast...
... without pause, until it was time toward evening to talk to my friends on Zoom.
I suppose nearly every weird thing that we do today can be linked in some ways to the pandemic. Me, I got overambitious. Winter was dragging. Spring would be offering us so much hope! The heart swelled and the plans for my gardens grew bigger and more detailed. I envisioned huge new flower fields created out of a mess of weedy terrain. I couldn't wait to get started.
And the plants arrived and if you know nursery plants, they should go into the ground pretty quickly. Put them in right after the threat of a hard frost is behind you. We were given heavenly planting weather this past week: I got to work.
Today -- 33 new babies went into the ground.
I did think I'd have an easier time of it with some of them, but the soil isn't uniformly good in the new fields so I have to haul in some more composted material to loosen up the clay. Everything is so damn dry (it has to be the driest April ever in Madison!), that digging isn't always easy.
Still, I'm happy with the progress. And of course, there is joy in working next to a blooming peach tree or crab apple.
The emerging pink in the gently greening tree is just so beautiful right now.
But I am spent. After my Zoom call, Ed went biking and I ventured out to my first dinner with (vaccinated) friends since the pandemic ripped our social fabric to shreds over a year ago. And now I am home and munching on pop corn and thinking that perhaps it's a good thing that I will be giving my gardening a rest for the next three days. We have some family activities scheduled. The rest of the baby plants will have to wait. And they can wait. This isn't a race: a leisurely trot or perhaps even a gentle meander to the end of flower planting is fine way to garden.
