Work of sight is done.
Now do heart work
On the pictures within you.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Another growing season draws to a close. While we clear our plots and store our pots many of us make mental notes of what worked and what we may do differently next spring. The more organized among us will actually write this down.
I will consider whether to add sweet potato vine to the ancient concrete planters given to me by a beloved neighbor. In my Covid-induced haste (and lacking aforementioned list) I failed to buy them this year and didn’t miss them until the containers were filled. But the petunias happily had more room to roam and looked glorious.
I will definitely plant more Sungold tomatoes—candy to the Grands and three squares for our chipmunk who always, thankfully, dined alone. I will not tempt fate and plant another pot of nepeta by my back door. Ground bees moved in and called it home until a nocturnal creature tipped it over and encouraged their search for new digs.
And I will redesign a once sunny section of my small side garden with more shade tolerant alternatives. Who knew serviceberries would grow so tall? I passed the sun lovers along to my children. How wonderful to see them create gardens of their own!
For many, a hint of sadness accompanies this process, reminded as we are of the passage of time. But the pleasures of gardens past and the dreams of gardens future linger and sustain us. As does gratitude for the days spent in their company.