Tuesday, September 21, 2004

older garden

This week I am older. My annual check-up with the doctor already reminded me of this when he moved to a new set of questions. The Today Show says that this age is the new 30. When I was with friends of a similar age in Italy, we all agreed that we had reached a point in our lives when we our conversations no longer sound like our parents, but like our grandparents -- in terms what is important on a day to day basis.

My garden is older, too. Finishing its third or fourth growing season (I've lost count, but then age didn't introduce this particular failing) -- I didn't garden the first year or so that we moved here -- it's thick with plants, and I must at some point start thinning out and transplanting.

I've started hinting to other friends who garden, and to good neighbors as well. Perhaps we'll find a day when we can swap and trade and share plants from our gardens.

There is something to be said for the mature garden, particularly for shrubs and trees. I wish I had more established spine in my garden, but there's more than there was when I finally started digging dirt and planting.

The last couple of days, I've wandered through the garden with Franklin, looking at new crops of weeds, marveling at the restored power of the roses now that heat and japanese beetles have ebbed, and I've mulled over what's coming out, and where it's going next.

1 comment:

Don said...

I think I am being a little wistful in describing my garden as old. Frankly, I look forward to growing old with one garden over many years.