What can each of us do, in small and large ways, with native plants to make life a little better for those coming after us - all living things coming after us. Some thoughts on propagation and restoration of native plants of the SE US for anyone with a few pots on the porch to endless acres.


The Gardening Spark




The first crocus popped open Friday!!  At some point last week, when the temps were bone chilling and the stingy sun would not offer any relief, a friend further south asked what was blooming.  Huh?  Spring had frankly not even crossed my mind.  Dates had not been too relevant for a few weeks and her question suddenly flashed a calendar on my skull and ...there it was...March!  Just days away.  Even tho there was no sun, I was suddenly warmed and energized.  I hadn't realized how badly I needed to be renewed.

The lapse in my entries here was due to one of life's inevitable speedbumps that began in the wee hours of Christmas morning and ended on the 5th of January when my Mom passed away. She turned 82 in the hospital, had had a variety of health issues for several years which left her unable to overcome an infection that started with a fall at Thanksgiving.  It was indeed time for her to go, her life was no fun, and though watching her illness play itself out was certainly tough for all, I was relieved to have her not be unhappy another day.

There was much time for reflection during the10 days of 45 minute trips to and from the hospital, or waiting in ICU, or walking the dogs who waited patiently out in the truck.  Mom and I were not good friends.  Never had been.  But, at least since I got past adolescence, I didn't blame our differences on her.  Well not too much.  We were just very different people.  Trying to focus on the positive aspects of our relationship, the first vision that popped to mind was time working together in the yard.  Planting azaleas, camellias and dogwoods.  Digging and dividing bulbs and monkey grass and English ivy.  Raking pine straw for mulch. Plugging centipede grass into bare spots of our small lawn and keeping it watered. Planting containers with impatiens and geraniums.  Cutting flowers for the table.   In South Carolina there are few days of the year that you can't get out in the yard to do something.  Knowing
how to manage these staples of southern gardens came from her mother and our yard was always picture perfect.

She learned early on that when it came to me and chores, she'd get much less resistance if she kept the vacuuming and such to a minimum, and went heavy on the raking, sweeping the walk, grass cutting and such.   After leaving home, when I'd come back, especially after starting the nursery, some planting or other gardening project was how we could work together with the least friction and usually even enjoy ourselves.  We both knew it was our "safe" zone and I think worked at thinking of gardening activities to keep the peace.  In the meantime, I learned to love digging in the dirt, nurturing plants and to appreciate most anything that involved  fresh air.
 

Since  I was young my folks also had a lake house north of Columbia and Mom intentionally left  that landscape mostly "wild".  She loved the birds and wanted them to enjoy our place.  We collected wildflowers from the roadsides to supplement some areas of the yard.  I remember thinking that these plants would never survive transplanting and should be left where they were (and probably said so).  They were so particular.  That's why they are wild, right?  But I tended them and watched them carefully.  Most of them survived.  Hmmm?  I began paying more and more attention to wild plants with an eye to using them in the garden.


Her tiny apartment at assisted living was stuffed with  potted flowers, cut flowers and silk flowers.  In a wheelchair at Thanksgiving she insisted on planting her favorite kind of spinach, not the kind in the grocery stores, in containers at the lake house.  She ordered bulbs in the fall and directed the yard man where they should go, I'm sure with the thought of how cheerful they would be this spring.

Last spring I planted over 20 containers of annuals and perennials at their house in town to perk it up to sell.  Then I did the same thing here and ended up with the most spectacular garden I've ever had.   I craved  the chance to nurture them and be nurtured by them.  That's my stress relief and it worked.   Last year was the worst year of my life, so far, for the number of family crises, but I had my retreat just outside the door to instantly readjust my balance.   I'm sure Mom needed her plants too, for similar reasons.

I love the PBS promo where you hear no words but there are little sparks that pass from one person to another and then that person passes them on to several others and on and on.  The sparks being an idea that grows and becomes part of all these other people.  So despite our differences, the gardening and nature loving sparks that who knows who started, but which were much alive in my mother, also infected me.   What would I have done with out them??

It's been so cold, this weekend was the first I've gotten out to do anything in the yard this year.  Just some cleaning up of the old stems, picking up limbs, weeding.  I found myself pondering how I learned to do each little thing and I sensed those sparks gently humming away in my hands.
Knowing what to do. 






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