“Emerging Life”

I grew up in a home surrounded by lush growth of flowers and trees. No one gardened the property as it was part of the “natural landscaping” look popular at the time. That meant there were numerous native plants, including trillium and johnny-jump-ups. There were also remnants of the time when the home, built in 1909, had employed  a gardener. Hence roses, rhododendrons, daffodils, dogwood, and snowdrop bushes bloomed every spring. Countless trees populated the two acres, so many that when a storm in 1960 took our 13 trees, there were still plenty left.

In other words, I took plants for granted and never took up gardening as a hobby. Fortunately, I married a man who has a real talent in the yard and who recognized a neglected yard when he saw one. After we married in 1988, he began to FEED the plants which then actually thrived. When we moved into our present home in 2001, he continued his practice of feeding, watering, pruning, dividing and transplanting the landscaping already present. And in the intervening 19 years, he has introduced thousands of bulbs, perennials and shrubs to our city lot.

He especially loves spring bulbs, and he fights with the squirrels who want to dig them up for meals every fall after they go in the ground. He also has added some perennials to a shady spot in the yard. Above are three plantings that recently bloomed, two from bulbs, one from a plant.

Often I carelessly overlook all his work, taking it for granted in the same way I took my childhood surroundings for granted. This spring I am housebound and rejoicing at each new bloom, grateful beyond measure for having married a man with a genuine green thumb.

32 thoughts on ““Emerging Life”

  1. I am jealous. I wish I had a green thumb. I plant box roses and azaleas Because they’re hard to kill those things here in the South. When I try something different it always dies.


  2. That’s marvelous the your husband has put his green thumb to work wherever he is.

    I have a black thumb, but I do try to keep the wilder plants from taking over. I had to laugh when you mentioned kudzu. I’ve likened our wicked wisteria to kudzu. I know that I am the only one who can notice a difference in the garden where I pulled weeds the last week. I’m going to be getting some recognition, though. The trek to the burn pile is on uneven ground, so I ask John to tote the weeds down there. Three days ago I had filled three containers. Today I filled one.


    1. Wow. The burn pile. I grew up burning everything every year. Here of course backyard burning is forbidden.But we can take everything to the town dump where it is made into compost.


  3. I often smile and nod my head when I read your posts, as I grew up much like you did. Gardening is no exception. All of those mature plants and trees were something I took for granted, too. When we moved into our home with mature gardens many years ago, in the middle of winter, my mother cautioned me to do nothing for a full year. Watch what grows, pay attention, learn, and appreciate what you have before making any changes or digging anything up. Sage advice! Hubby and I have learned and gardened over the years. It has become one of our greatest joys. Now that we are home bound, we are grateful for Mother Nature’s bounty.


  4. You’ve got yourself a keeper there, Elizabeth. Sometimes we’re so busy with our lives that we don’t notice all of the things that our spouses are doing to keep things running smoothly. I like to refer to my wife as my better three-quarters.


  5. I think most of us are learning to appreciate so many things which we used to take for granted, in the sense they are so much a part of our lives that we don’t really think about them. Regards


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