OK, I admit it. I’m totally obsessed with taking pictures of my garden. There. I said it. I think this comes from the fact that taking pictures of flowers is … for me anyway …. much safer than taking pictures of other stuff. For one, flowers don’t move very much. Unless of course the wind picks up, which has been an issue lately. Oh, and several times I’ve come close to getting stung by a bee. But that pales in comparison to getting mowed down by a herd of nervous sheep. Or falling on your head trying to shoot cool stuff in the dark. Or getting buzzed by territorial hummingbirds. Well, maybe that last one isn’t that dangerous.
I’m sure I’ll look back some day and laugh at many of the experiences I’m having now. But at the moment I’m not amused. I just want all my pictures to come out as nicely as the ones I take of my flowers. Boy, does that sound lame. You see, I’m not much of a flower girl. I mean, I like planting things and getting them to grow, but I’m not one of those girlie girls who loves putting vases of freshly cut bouquets in every room. In fact, the thought doesn’t even cross my mind. I do like wandering amidst my handiwork though. It’s payback for all the sweaty hours I’ve spent pulling weeds and de-sodding my lawn so I can enlarge my gardens.
Gardening is a losing battle. As soon as it looks really good, everything starts to fade. Weeds never relent even though the days are growing shorter and shorter. Soon, I’ll be battling falling leaves. That’s what I get for planting a flower garden under a large maple tree. Still, I persist. I think my desire to garden is genetic. My father was a master gardener as was his mother before him. My namesake. Yeah. Though, for many years I struggled to get anything to grow. Even house plants withered and died. But then somewhere in my mid thirties, it suddenly all clicked and my gardens started to flourish. I don’t have the foggiest idea why.
I’m glad I can get most things to come back every year. Some plants have grown to such gigantic proportions that I’m going to have to split and move them. I figure that’s a good sign. Better to have to conquer and divide than have plants croak. I hate to lose something I’ve bought. Perennials aren’t cheap! I wish my sisters lived closer so I could spread the joy. Since I’m running out of places to put things I could unload half my super-sized plants on them. Then I could bring in something new once in awhile. I sure as heck don’t want to be taking pictures of the exact same plants year after year!