Tuesday, June 06, 2006

The wanderer

I was out wandering in the yard again this morning. I wander out there just about every single day, looking for new buds, signs of healthy growth, evidence of massacring bunnies - that kind of thing.

This morning I found a proliferation of tiny weeds. I have no idea where they came from because I swear they weren't there the last time I looked. The vegetable garden is clean, but the angel garden, not so much.

They'll be evicted soon, probably tomorrow. Today I was watering and didn't feel like pawing through mud to extricate the interlopers, but rest assured I'll get every last one of them.

I often think I probably look like a moron. The yard-wandering, sometimes camera-wielding idiot who can't stop looking at her masterpiece (which, to someone who doesn't understand its meaning, is still a pretty uninspiring mess of seedlings that need to fill out. A lot). And when I'm not in the yard, I can often be found gazing at the garden from one of the windows that faces it.

Seriously. I look at it a lot.

Everything in it seems to hold so much importance to me. I have audibly gasped at the sight of wilted rose leaves and fretted far too much about what the wilting might mean for the long-term health of the bush.

My Beloved has reminded me (more than once) that they're just plants. And it's true - I know that. But I have an attachment to them that is bordering on pathological. The seedlings that I planted just after Thomas' first birthday and tenderly nurtured through the bitter tail end of winter and into the spring - they're in there. The Angel Face rose that I searched for in vain and finally found one day, quite by accident - it's in there. The New Dawn climbing rose that my Dad helped me pick out - it's out there too, beside the angel garden. The "Sentimental Blue" Balloon flower I planted for another little angel (Thomas' buddy Ryan) - it's there too, tucked in beside a solar light just beneath the birdhouse.

Everything I've planted has a deeper meaning. The zinnias and cosmos were favourites of my Grandmothers. The Cranberry Cotoneaster was a gift in Thomas' memory from my Aunt. Snapdragons put a twinkle in my Dad's eye and morning glories make my Mom smile.

I chose each plant for a reason, and so everything means that much more to me, even if no one understands why.

It's tiring being so sentimental sometimes, but it's also good to have found a relatively constructive and certainly beautiful way to feel so connected to memories - and to special people I love so much.

If that makes me a moron, I can live with that.

6 comments:

deadbabymama said...

Last year bugs attacked the tree we planted for our daughter and we went into panic mode. Thankfully the tree survived and is thriving this year, but we were terrified we'd kill the tree and be the least successful parents ever. Fret all you want.

Jennifer said...

Kristin... I have tears reading this! Your garden, it's so beautiful!! I love that each and every plant there holds such incredible meaning for you. It's more than just prettying up your yard. It is, like you said, a way of connecting. And I just think this is about the most beautiful thing I've ever in my life read.

Also wanted to add that your vocabulary is out of this world!!! Love it!

kate said...

My neighbors think i am crazy...heck with 'em, i say! And those tiny weeds -- they are easier to pull when they are bigger. Yeah, that is why my vegetable garden is a mess of weeds, i am waiting until they are big enough to pull easily! Sure.

Nikki said...

I think it is wonderful that each flower has a special meaning for those you love that is just fabulous and I think it is wonderful that you have such a wonderful garden and I love living through your words and pictures it truly amazes me at all your hard work and the beauty that has come from that work just like Thomas :)

Denise said...

I think that is why gardens are such personal places. They are a reflection of the artist that created them.

Bronwyn said...

You've done such a beautiful job with your garden, you have every right to be proud! Enjoy the time you spend tending it and admiring it. I'm sure it does wonders for your mental health -- we should all spend more time in gardens!