A few years ago, after more than twenty years
of marriage, we finally bought a house. The previous owners had put together a
nice garden, but had not worked on it all that much in the previous year or so.
When we moved in, my better half talked about having some vegetables, or
perhaps an herb garden in the little herb box by the side of the house. Of
course, this did not materialize. However, as my job search stalled, I started
climbing the walls out of boredom. That next spring, with the help of a good
friend (thanks J!!), the garden was organized, ordered, trimmed and cleaned up.
Nice.
Now what?
Boredom decreed that I do something else, so, the
next spring, I decided to tinker. I started by removing the salt cedar that
started sending roots everywhere. So I pulled it out, replaced some soil, and
planted a couple of wildflower mixes. I also cleared some more space, and added
a bit more of the wildflower mix. I also planned some grass mix in a bare strip
up front, where the previous owners had stripped out a row of bushes, and
couldn’t decide what to do.
To my everlasting shock and surprise, they came
in like gangbusters. By late spring, the flowers were in full bloom, nicely
complementing the existing flowering plants and tree. Drunk on power, I vowed
to continue. However, I only saw a part of that, since I was away, working in
California.
Leaving my California job in the early spring,
I remembered my vow. Well, more truthfully, I was bored again. I cleared some
more of the existing vegetation out back, and planted a whole set of butterfly
plants, as well as couple of raspberry plants. In front, I decided that I would
establish a Native Wildflower Garden. So, armed with a shovel, enthusiasm and
nothing resembling a plan, I cleared a circle of some 30 ft2 of turf,
and planted a mix of prairie plants – a blow struck for Mother Earth!!!
A week later, the Oak Park Conservatory had a
plant sale. In a green-tinted fever haze, I bought some basil, oregano,
parsley, and sage. I cleared the tangled jungle of weeds out of the herb box,
added soil, and planted them my herbs. I was now the proud owner of a realio
trulio herb box, as well as couple of raspberry plants. I was now a Gardener,
and a Restorer Of Native Habitats, and an Organic Berry Farmer!
As spring progressed, the plants seemed to be
growing especially slow. The previous year’s flowers came in, though, and
suddenly we were drowning in cone flowers and black-eyed Susans. They grew to
four feet tall, and were flopping over everywhere. Up front, the cone flowers
were also blooming in the prairie. Then the milkweed exploded in the front, and
the butterfly flowers and bee balm exploded out back. All those decades of
education, all those years studying ecology, had finally paid off – For I was He
Whose Garden Grows. Off again to another California job, my garden continued to
thrive. A rainy Chicagoland summer had resulted in rampant growth in the herb
box usually seen in weeds and bad pop songs.
Back again in the spring, I expanded my little
plot a bit, added some seeds, and was both overjoyed and shocked to see how
many of the plants were growing and flowering, and doing well. I greeted the milkweed
as an old friend, smiled indulgently as the pushy coneflowers crowded the plot,
fighting with the black-eyed Susans for attention, and watched as my prairie thistles
towered over the other flowers, intimidating all but the wild bergamot, which
is pretty badass. I congratulated the very first guaras and mountain mint
plants, and peeked in on the side-oats grama leaning hither and fro, red anthers
dangling as though it had somehow forgotten that grasses don’t have showy
flowers.
They grew, the produced seeds, and, as winter set in, they died. While I was a bit sad, I knew that this was The Circle Of Life. I would see them all again in the spring, and they would, hopefully, bring some buddies too.
They grew, the produced seeds, and, as winter set in, they died. While I was a bit sad, I knew that this was The Circle Of Life. I would see them all again in the spring, and they would, hopefully, bring some buddies too.
My wife was relieved, since I got pretty
tiresome, waxing all lyrical about my garden. My child avoided my any time I
came indoors after being in the garden for any length of time, having no desire
to be subjected to a minute description of the daily activity in that wild
tangle of vegetation up in the front of our house. When bringing friends home,
he learned to sneak into the house through the alley, rather than subject his
unsuspecting friends to Dad Going On About His Prairie Plot. Again.
The back yard did well, but, as I found it
boring, I will continue to talk about My Favorite Child. I’m That Type Of Bad
Parent
It is the end of winter, and boredom has set
in. It is time for New Big Things in My Garden. I will reveal all in my Next
Post.
