i’m nobody’s gardener

I don’t garden.DSC02839I plant things and do what I can to keep the weeds at bay. DSC02844But the weeds usually win.
DSC02848I used to care. Used to fret about weeds winning. It used to be that I couldn’t sit on the patio after working for hours in the garden, fretting and fussing and weeding, couldn’t sit down at last and just say, “Well, that looks good.”
DSC02849Because I’d notice something askew. Or how the tall blue things were in front of the short yellow things.DSC02850I used to care that delphiniums fell over in the rain.DSC02851Then one day I got rid of the delphiniums.DSC02853And anything else that was a bit precious. Or incapable of weathering the weather.DSC02854The yard became less garden and more Place Where Things Grow or Don’t Grow; It’s Up To Them.DSC02857Oh, what a happy day when I stopped being a gardener and started being someone who could sit on the patio at the end of the day and say, well isn’t that a lovely sight.
DSC02858Without fretting about colour combinations and bloom time and height and things keeling over untidily.DSC02861Untidy is hardly noticeable in my ungardenly garden. DSC02862So if things are lovely, it has nothing to do with me.
DSC02845After I stopped being a gardener, I sat on the patio one night and said out loud, “Well, doesn’t everything look wonderful”, and a young girl who was on the patio with me said what a funny thing for an adult to say. “Usually adults complain about things,” she said.DSC02846So true.

Because we think we’re in charge.

6 thoughts on “i’m nobody’s gardener

  1. I share your attitude about the garden – I like to just let it be and see what happens. We may have the unruliest yard on the street, but I think we also enjoy it more. Weeds can be beautiful, too.
    And, I love the little conversation you had with the girl – what a nice reminder!

  2. Lovely, free-spirited garden, Carin.
    I was happy to see the country cousins of the columbines that were transplanted in my city backyard.
    What a wise, young friend you have.

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