I have to make a strange admission: There was a point during the spring when I was nervous about my garden being TOO neat. The squares and rows and straw-mulched paths were just what I’d always imagined an organic garden to be.
Where was the space for wildness? For the seedlings that would plant themselves? For life unforeseen? Was the garden too well-planned?
Nature abhors a tidy square as much as she abhors a vacuum. I needn’t have worried: The life unforeseen–both welcome and not so welcome–sprang up indeed. It resulted in a lot of weeding being necessary, but some of the surprise guests made the work worthwhile.
One of them was a lonely canna that grew on a mound where I’d planted acorn squash. How it got there, I have no idea; I hadn’t grown cannas for at least six or seven years, and even the ones I did have were on the other side of the house. This one had simply sprung Athena-like from the brain of the garden.
I’m pleased to know that I can safely check “Having a garden that’s too predictable” off my worry list.