Moody Tuesday Musings

I took a little walk around the front yard yesterday with my camera to see what was popping up in the garden beds nearest the house. Watching nature always reminds me that life is filled with change and that things are often not as I expect (or want) them to be. I may plant that flower over there to the right, under the holly bush, but it comes up next year on the left, by the front steps. That herb that I planted two years ago that looked quite dead the second year, suddenly appears, full of life, in the third season. Yet, something that was robust last year at this time hasn't even poked a single leaf out of the ground this spring. Unwanted weeds will grow much better than any cultivated plant. Does this mean if I choose to grow weeds that they won't flourish? (Hmm, perhaps a good theory to test!)

Change is nature's way of keeping me on my toes. Nature is a source of infinite fascination because I never know what I might see at any time, day or night. Just when I think I know what birds I'll see in a certain area, some unusual avian delight flutters in - just for a moment. Better keep my eyes, ears, and heart open or I might miss that once-in-a-lifetime message from the Universe that conveys the meaning-of-it-all.

Ok, perhaps I am exaggerating just a little! Or maybe not. That is the point. You never know what unique insight might be standing there, three feet from your back door unless you venture outside on occasion, outside the ordinary, outside the routine. Look to your left instead of to your usual right when you glance out the window. Take a walk on the wild side today and get outside yourself. That is, stroll through nature's ever-changing scene and see if anything is blooming in a place you wouldn't expect it to be. Let me know if you happen to find the answer to the "meaning-of-it all" question while you are out there because I can't watch everywhere all at once. We need each other to get a 360 degree view.

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Where did this lovely Lily of the Valley underneath my window come from? I don't remember planting it. I think they were growing wild under a tree next to the house. What magical little creative transplanted it during the night?

These gorgeous, black-purple Johnny Jump-ups jumped up about five feet away from where they were planted last year. One plant decided it liked the shelter of the stone stairs, while the other preferred life in the open, springing up on two sides of a garden fence and in between the walkway and the garden bed. How reflective of the differing personalities of living things; even plants have preferences.

Chocolate mint moves forward with its plot to take over the world...or at least my front garden. Before you get too excited by the word "chocolate," this herb only has a hint of that beloved flavor and is mostly still mint. I also have pineapple, orange, and apple mints, plus spearmint, and peppermint in the back garden. All of them must have been in communication with the chocolate variety in the front yard as they are refusing to stay within the bounds of their allotted territory.

Ever notice that each yard seems to favor one color or another of violet? Some friends of ours only have a white variety, while our previous house only had a medium-dark purple type. This year our yard is inundated by this delicate and delightful pinkish-purple violet. I don't remember there being such a profusion of them in past seasons. I am not sure where they come from, but they are certainly always a cheerful presence in my yard.

This chive plant has had the benefit of a full southern exposure and is already making blooms, whereas its cousin in the north-facing back yard is just now receiving sunlight, so it is still in the small, green stages.