As you may remember, the first woodchuck ate all my sunflowers. The second–still at large–woodchuck ate his way through my cosmos. I had despaired of getting any of those lovely breezy flowers this summer. But, as you can see in the photo above, a few cosmos took their time and emerged to defy the little rodent’s evil intent. Not the full display that we had planted, but enough to make me smile.

My granddaughter seems to have a constant sense that she is late to the party of my life. Whenever I share a story, she says “how come no one ever told me that?” A recent phrase FOMO(fear of missing out) seems, in her case, to operate retroactively. Still, she operates on the theory that I apply to my cosmos, better late than never. She hauls out photo albums and has me identify every person and event pictured therein.

When I sit explaining who is who to her I remember my similar fascination with identifying all the relatives before me. I memorized the names of my grandfather’s siblings in one panoramic photo, even though most of them had already died. That study turned out to be very useful when I inherited all the family photos after my mother died. I have been able to label them, sometimes even posting them on this blog.

But back to the garden. I am grateful that any cosmos appeared and have a chance this September to flutter in the wind until the first killing frost. And glad that my FOMO didn’t apply to my flowers after all.