Most people think of spring as a time of renewal.  Gardeners in spring are beside themselves.  Last year I began a tiny garden by my back deck so this spring holds heightened anticipation wondering if everything (anything?) took.  The shrubs planted in the fall did not, only the oak leaf hydrangea showed any sign of a shoot.  Harumi’s lady’s mantle did not.  Jeanette’s chameleon, Florence’s hosta, Trudi’s black-eyed suzies and gay feather all made it.  It’s a deep shade little patch of land but it’s mine and I got immediately to work again.  Pull out the shrubs, turn the soil, and remove even more of the endless supply of rocks.  Start thinking about containers; start thinking about annuals to see if we can get some color.  My gardening muscles were sore again, how reassuring to know they weren’t lost.

Would this be enough to sustain my garden addiction?  Even more pressing, would I be able to go another season looking at those pathetic rhododendrons outside my front door.  You already know the answer, the rhodies are history.  I couldn’t take it another minute.  They are not my favorite shrub to begin with and the fact that they were starting to brown didn’t help. 

More rock removal, more soil turning, more digging, more planning, more scraping together a few bucks and off I go to Willow Run.  I know, I know.  I head directly for the clearance corner (I call it the orphanage) and hit pay dirt.  A rose of Sharon, two hydrangeas, and a few tiny azaleas are on their way to Stowe Lane.  A few more big bang for the buck plants, sweet woodruff, mountain pinks and some sage. 

The wholesale perennial grower is opening on Saturday so I need to save a few dollars for that run.  Saturday turns out to be a crappy day, drizzly and raw, perfect for getting new plants in the ground.  I come home with coreopsis, both tickseed and thread leaf, Stella d’oro lilies a real workhorse and hugely satisfying.  I have a cup of tea under the tarp with the owners and off I go to get my plants in.

I stand back and survey my handiwork and I can see what the future of this garden will be but for right now it is sparse.  I’m grateful to have it, I’m grateful my shoulders are sore and I know exactly where I can go for help.

I talk often about the kindness and generosity of gardeners and it is confirmed to me over and over again.  I sent an email out to a few people I work with who I also know are gardeners.  Subject:  Can you help a gardener out? I explained my deep shade dilemma, my newly formed front garden and the fact that I’m out of cash.  I know they understand.

This Sunday I have the promise of one of my gardener angels bringing grasses and hosta for my poor back garden.  I will have iris and day lilies for my new front garden. He will have a batch of pignoli nut cookies.

 The UPS man will be bringing additional shade perennials from another kind gardener the following week.  As I read their email list of offerings I am overcome with emotion.  It was very difficult leaving my old garden but now I’ve come to believe that wherever I go there will be a garden legacy so long as I can reach out to another gardener.  

Spring Post Script

I’ve just posted about Spring and the promise of things to come in my garden.  Here’s what really happened:

Sunday did indeed come but the promise of hosta and day lilies was grossly under-exaggerated.  When my friend, Kevin, showed up with plants it was an entire Yukon (he normally drives a MINI Cooper) full of plants. It was a jaw dropping moment complete with welling up and a complete loss for words (no snappy remarks).  There were hosta and more hosta and more hosta, and day lilies and more day lilies, grasses and ferns, columbine and Shasta daisy, iris and sedum, and wild geraniums.  There must have been fifty clumps of beautiful perennials all waiting for planting.  Of course they all went in that rainy, cold day.  Don’t know that I’ve ever been wetter, dirtier, or happier.  My gratitude is unending.

Two weeks later the UPS man showed up.  When I got home from work there were two huge boxes on my front porch filled with hosta, day lilies, nettles, wild ginger, lambs ear, more hosta, more day lilies, and some clumps I couldn’t name and can’t wait to see bloom.  Next day another huge box with more precious clumps of perennials showed up.  Before getting to work that Friday everything was in the ground…cue the rain.  Really it started to rain the minute I was finished.  Love my universe. 

I came to learn that my friend Lance, who sent all the UPS boxes, had dug up his garden to provide clumps of wonderful perennials for me all the while his family was going through a hard time.  Now every gardener knows the therapeutic value of digging deep in your garden and sharing with someone else but this act of kindness was beyond words.  Lance’s daughter Brynn had eye surgery just recently and it was not yet bringing the anticipated result.  The discouraging part was that she is legally blind in her other eye, this was the better eye.  I hope and pray that God gives this family what it needs knowing full well that it may not be what they want.  I believe that kindness of this caliber deserves the universe’ full attention.   I hope that you will continue, as I will, to keep this family in your prayers.  I count on God’s kind universe every day and know that we can help too.

I’m grateful for my tiny garden miracle, the kindness of gardeners and the anticipated miraculous turn out for the Mitchell family. Amen.