Garden Salad

Yesterday my sister-in-law came over to help me with my backyard garden.

Actually, "garden" may be too optimistic a word. It's the kind of space best described as "having a lot of potential". At the moment, it's mostly bare earth, patchy grass, and a few hopeful perennials I planted last week. My sister-in-law insisted that we remove all of the proliferating violets which had taken over most of the yard. I had been keeping them, not wanting to call them weeds, but Carina said they just looked like salad. Besides, she assured me, they'll come back anyway.

My now-barren back yard stands in stark contrast to my overly exuberant front yard. In that garden, the black-eyed susans have gone berserk, taking over the modest 15' x 15' space in an explosion of golden blooms (seen above). They're even taking over the neighbours' garden. (I must apologize when they come back from vacation.) And yet, I can't bring myself to pull out any of these overachieving flowers. They're excessive, yes...but they're healthy and strong and blooming and, well, beautiful. (I make a mental note to thin them in the fall.)

As I haltingly approach both yards--wondering what should stay and what should go, what I should water and what let die--I admire my friends who seem to be born gardeners. They achieve harmony and balance in their gardens: planting and watering faithfully, weeding decisively when necessary.

A few weeks ago, our daughter put a positive spin on a dandelion. Picking it up and blowing the seeds into the wind, she called it a "wishing weed". It's a touching irony that by making a wish on a dandelion, we scatter its seeds and virtually guarantee more pesky, proliferating, unwished-for growth. There's something about the dandelion's design that makes wishing on it come naturally. Its seeds are held more beautifully aloft than others'; yet, when they land, those seeds become "weeds" that are difficult to uproot and to ignore. It reminds me of that old saying, "Be careful what you wish for". Our hopes and dreams always carry the seeds of troublesome change.

In the removal of some plants and the encouragement of others, we create personal gardens that may, at the best of times, be balanced and harmonious...and at other times, may be pleasing (or at least amusing) in their un-balanced-ness.

I like mine on the wild side, and I'm inclined to be kind to weeds.