Ponderings…Seeds under soil

Heather Ainsley
ECB Publishing, Inc.

I enjoy gardening. More specifically, I enjoy the hobby of gardening, as I have no interest in a job as a landscaper or in doing someone else's yard chores for them. For me, I enjoy the gentleness that comes with gardening, the slow and steady process of nurturing seeds to yield fruit or flowers, taming wild bushes to be tidy and handsome. There is something exciting about the “not knowing” of when a bloom will open, or if a plant can be trained to grow or behave a certain way. It takes patience, and perseverance, especially when minor catastrophes happen, like the recent cold spell that occurred this year that rendered many of my outdoor plants lifeless.
Like with anything in life, gardening takes finesse. You must know when to snip, and where. When to water and why. And above all, you must be willing to wait. Gardening is not the friend to an impatient gardener. It has been difficult to wait to clear up my distressed garden. I loved how healthy and vibrant it looked before the 18 degree weather killed off my most prized plants. Seeing it in the state it is in now for so long has made me eager and impatient to clear away all the current plants and replace them with brand new ones, so that I can begin again, right away.
But I don't know yet who all in my garden has survived this nasty little cold snap, and who is lying dormant, waiting for the warmth of spring. I am not a wasteful gardener, you see, so I have no intention of ripping up and throwing away a plant that is not dead. It has been difficult to wait, but I know the importance of patience, and am certain it will pay off in time.
The season is about right for the start of grooming the dead branches away and making room for new growth in certain plants. I have had to pace myself, as grooming a plant too soon can lead to stress and that can be deadly. I began with the holly ferns. After the whole ordeal with the constant freezing, thawing and refreezing, I thought for certain they were goners. Their leaves didn't just shrivel in death – they melted, turning black and oozy, and began to rot. I knew that to save them, the old, moldy stems would have to be cut away. Holly ferns do well when all of the old, damaged fronds are removed in late winter or early spring. So I got to work. The results looked bare, and I still didn't know if they had survived or not. I contemplated taking them out entirely, but I knew the only thing to do was to wait and see.
Imagine my delight as I stepped outside to check on them the other day, and saw – not one, not two, but dozens of new, pale green fronds curling up from the base of each plant! Without the old, dead fronds in their way, these little baby fronds are reaching and stretching for the surface! Every day, a new frond unfurls, a beautiful, vibrant new cycle of growth. In no time at all, these ferns will be thick, bushy and full of life again. Every time I see them, I am glad I didn't simply tear them out, assuming they were dead.
Spring is not in full-swing yet, so much of my gardening currently involves simply hovering around the flower beds, snipping a dead branch here, checking the soil there. I am eager to get to work on making it beautiful again, but it isn't time just yet. I have been delighted to discover new life in plants I feared were damaged beyond repair by the freeze; my lantana, my butterfly bushes and even my ruellia are each sending out new shoots! The tulips I thought had died completely last spring have even begun to emerge, although I think the moles have done some rearranging because they aren't all where I put them originally!
These signs of life in my garden give me hope for a good season to come. It reminds me that sometimes life doesn't look the way you want it to right away, but with patience, attention and care, there might be seeds emerging in your life that you didn't even know were there. It is easy to feel impatient, and want to uproot things in your life that are unsatisfying. And, sometimes, it's necessary to do a little “weeding” and trim out the things in your life that are no longer functional. But sometimes, the flowers aren't dead. They are just dormant, waiting for their time in the sun. It's important to wait to see what will bloom, and what needs to be replanted. Your patience will either pay off, or give you the answers you seek. And sometimes, those two things are one and the same.