How does my garden grow?

Even in the monotonous and messy landscape of the coastal plains, there are moments of vibrancy and surprise. The roses are blooming and somehow that makes the world seem expectant and blithe.




I am not a particularly good gardener. My sweet husband use to buy me living plants, but they never survived under my care. Then Ben dug up a Herod's Crown cactus on his grandparent's ranch, and I kept that alive for a number of years. I guess my prickly disposition matched the cactus and so it felt camaraderie and even bloomed for me. But that was many years ago. Now, I find the maintenance of a garden in the south extremely exhausting. Things grow too fast here. I pull up a weed on Monday and on Wednesday there are two more in its place.



I prefer to cultivate my foursome. They are like jungle plants that shoot up with little nurturing. They are hearty and have the most exotic flowers (aka personalities). There are days I would swear they are like my old cactus, but, after all, they are a hybrid of me.





I've learned that gardening my kids is more rewarding than my actual garden. I think it is because my kids are ever resilient and forgiving of my shortcomings. They just seem to bloom and grow.