Reclaiming a Lost Love

From 4/27/08

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.

~Dorothy Frances Gurney

I discovered gardening when I was dating a boy whose mother was an avid gardener. It began with me admiring her garden and asking what plant was what. Soon I was on my knees next to her in the spring lovingly planting and weeding.

When my son was born, is father's gift to me was building me a 20 foot by 30 foot garden space. He put in a winding brick path and retaining wall. A landscaper came in and filled with top soil and place a tulip magnolia tree in the back corner.

I filled the remaining space with a variety of flowers, herbs, and blueberry bush as well as a couple of tomato plants. I'd eagerly plan my plantings over the winter. I had timed my flowers to provide me cut flowers from the early spring (daffodils) to late fall (mums).

Then my marriage fell apart... and I got my heart broken right out of the gate. For some reason, my interest in my garden waned over the course of the last 3 years. I know part of it was that even though I still live in the house I had a real issue with it feeling like MINE. Felt more like the kids' house and not "home" to me anymore.

Then last year... I totally abandoned my garden. I didn't do a darn thing on top of doing the bare minimum the two seasons prior. I had realized that many of perennials were no longer thriving (some totally disappeared) because over time the other trees in the yard had grown to the point to where they were blocking the sun.

My garden no longer had its full sun. At best, parts had partial sun and other parts were now full shade. Last spring, even if I wanted to garden I wasn't sure what would grow now. Every time I looked at my garden this past year I felt like it was mocking me. Reminding me how I had failed it.

Last month, something snapped in me. I decided tor reclaim my lost love. I started watching the sun again to see exactly when the partial sun areas got the sun. Started thinking that while certain plants would no longer bloom in parts of my garden due to the shade... there were other plants that would.

So the past few weekends I've been back out in my garden. My iPod is playing in my ears while I fix what I broke by leaving it.

Yesterday was particularly grueling. The mint had gone crazy this spring. It totally took over the section that I had marked for the partial sun plants I wanted replace the full sun ones.

Mint is rather aggressive. Not only in its prolific spreading above ground but in that it has an extensive root system. You can yank out the plants but the roots will continue to produce new ones plants and crowd out any other plant you try to grow.

It had go if I wanted this part of my garden back. As I tugged and tugged with sweat rolling down my back it hit me how much sometimes I feel like my life has become a wayward garden.

So many areas were left unattended and what grew there stopped thriving... time for some loving care to coax out those blooms. And then some areas changed to the degree that what used to bloom no longer is possible... but all that means is I have to cultivate some different plants to get that color I crave.

But best of all... as I sat there covered in dirt and sweat and reflecting on my life... I felt that inner peace and sense of calm that I had missed. And I remembered what gardening also always symbolized to me: optimism is also something one can cultivate no matter what.