I've spent the past several days, mostly in the coolest morning hours (relatively speaking as our humidity keeps the mid 70s from being altogether enjoyable for hard labor) getting back to some of the most basic grunt work of trying to garden.
Mostly I am a victim (using the term guardedly) of our own success. Allow me to explain.
Dis-Obedient plants revealed that yes indeed they will naturalize nicely at the end of that path. Good luck trying to keep them from stepping out into that path however. The flowers may behave on their stems but their root systems go wherever they see an empty space.
Stepping stones that were needed to get into newly cultivated areas have disappeared into exuberant new growth. Now providing cover for all sorts of ants and ground nesting insects, corners of the stones wink slyly out, reminding me that there used to be a way, as well as a need, to get from here to there.
The remnants of a finally completely dead bush have come out, though not without a fight. At least the top parts of the slowest declining shrub in hedge history have been not so much removed as wrestled out, leaving a maze of woody roots down below that will make replanting an enterprise for the stout of arm, not to mention heart.
But because our dreams of what might be often morph within an all too short space of time into our latest bit of drudgery and upkeep, I want to stop and salute the mass of plants I literally tore out by the roots today. The time just spent sweating, cursing and slapping at mosquitoes was all a sign of success if I will simply see it that way.
There were other years when all we could do was water and hope, squint and try to imagine what a space would look like when the plantings we'd placed there had finally filled in.
Well, fill in they have by golly. Filled in and grown past their bounds. So today was a banner day in its own way, and after the sore muscle meds have kicked in I bet I'll be actively glad about it, too.
Enough tedium and workaday shots of garden chores accomplished. As your reward for hanging in with me thus far, a little bug love.
If the leaves are a rockin', don't come knocking.