It has only been the past few years that I have learned the names of most garden plants, any plants at all really.
For years, the things in bloom were beautiful, nameless strangers. Worth noting for only the briefest of moments.
But once I got to know them, to learn their names and what they like, they started to feel like friends. Now I look forward to their arrivals. I know who to expect and when. And when they go, I miss them.
This is not my garden. These are my mother's tulips. Her garden, unlike my own, is always picture perfect. Blooming all season long with nary a weed in sight. My own garden, like most of my endeavors, is whimsically disheveled. My goal is actually a witchy, over cottage garden. Regardless, I sure appreciate my mom's tulips, and I am excited for the riot of clematis that will take over shed soon enough and the echinacea that will follow.