Something weird is going on
In my garden.
You may remember from year’s past
That I have an errant Hollyhock.
Instead of growing in the back of the bed
It keeps plopping itself at the very front of the border.
It has done this for several years.
Each of those years I have dug it up
And moved it to the back
Where tall things are supposed to live
In a traditional perennial border.
Yet, year after year
It has had a front row seat.
Imagine how pleased I was
When this spring it stayed put
In the back.
And then…
This happened.

A bird must have dropped a sunflower seed
In the exact same spot
Where the hollyhock grew.
I should have just pulled it
When it was little.
But my gardener’s curiosity
Always gets the best of me.
I had to let it grow
To see what it becomes.
Since I’ve never planted 12 foot sunflowers
I had no idea that it would grow
SO BIG.
Should I chop it down
Cutting it off from it’s moment of glory?
Can’t do that.
I can’t help but wonder
What is the lesson here?
What is it about this particular place
That always grows such giant plants?
Are they trying to tell me something?
Something I really need to learn?
Maybe the location has something to do
With getting my attention.
It might have gotten lost
Buried deep in the mass of Coneflower and Phlox.
It had to park at the front to be seen
And heard.
I wonder if we let this happens with people?
Do we get so busy that we let friendships
Get lost in the Coneflowers?
Gardens…the perennial teacher.
Gail
“Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.” –Karl A. Menniger
Obviously a lesson.
I love puzzling these out.
A big lesson I have/had/will continue to grapple with is: perfection. No matter what, we are imperfect. When we understand that we are valuable in our imperfection, we find freedom.
And of course, the hollyhocks could have been a prep for the sunflower, which of course, points us to the sun(son)!
Enjoyed your post!
Sent from my iPhone
I’ve always painted life with such a broad brush that perfection just couldn’t find a way in.
I think getting older helps with that too. Thank you.