Wisdom of the Aged

Novice that I was, I felt like I was finally becoming a real gardener when my first spring came in. I was astonished and pleasantly elated that I'd actually originated the marvel I was looking at. My ego was getting really greedy and possessive. I really didn't understand that what I was claiming as my own work was really the province of spring.

The the east side of my lot was beginning to receive favorable comments from some of the neighbors. A copious database of information was coming my way in the form encouragement, advice, admonishments and some downright criticism. Planting was all I wanted to talk about and suddenly I found so many of the elder statesmen (and women) in the hood knew "everything" and were willing to share!

I was amazed and flattered that they actually wanted to see what I'd done. Often I'd get a "tsk, tsk, delphinium would have been better there", or "oh boy, do you know how that stuff takes over?", "I hope that doesn't burn up on you during the summer", considerations that never entered my mind.

I started carrying my "Sunset" around with me while I was working and I had those little plastic id tags from the pots inserted into the pages as bookmarks. I was determined to learn the botanical names. Some of these seasoned gardeners would walk by and see me reading and actually quote direct passages to me, like, "you'll find that that is really a pelargonium, I think it's on pg. 407, oh you have the new edition… well, true geraniums are perennials …"

Some of my new found friends invited me to see their secret specimen plantings that you would never see from the road, they offered me cuttings. Whoa, was I getting into some esoteric inner circle? I felt like an initiate and couldn't wait for the day when I had some of my own cuttings to offer…