Jon’s spent most of the last few weekends slowly pulling all the bushes out of our back yard in the first of approximately 1,273 steps in our ongoing quest towards a garden. I am totally on board with this because since we moved in last July, the idea of having a bunch of poorly groomed straggly bushes around the perimeter of the yard has been disheartening, AND he’s done most of the shrub pulling so far. he’s been making great progress and it’s finally starting to look like the blank slate we want it to be so we can shape the yard into the garden/greenhouse/firepit/covered patio space we envision.
but there’s one plant he hadn’t gotten to yet. we have had a mix of warmer, sunny days, and colder, frosty nights, and some of the blooming trees and bushes around here have been confused. the daffodils are up, and the dogwood, magnolia, and cherry trees and pushing hard for best in show. and we, unexpectedly, have what I believe is a camellia.
with the weather being all over the place, it caught me off guard. this will be our first spring in this home, and we really thought that none of the plants we had were flowering ones.
I think there’s an analogy or a metaphor in there: that the quiet assumptions we make in times when we don’t see anything happening, might be proven wrong in a time of growth. that what looks like emptiness might spring forth into full bloom. that the long slog and drain of the winter rains is not without rewards.
now to convince Jon that the bush is worth relocating…
perhaps the greater 