I’ve spent my previous two posts focusing on my beloved flowers, most of which are currently living in pots. If I just pop a few happily blooming flowers into a pot, voila–I have an instant mini-garden! There are few things more gratifying than maximum beauty for minimum labor.
The main garden, alas, is another affair. As in previous years, the space allotted for it rivals the gardens of my Amish neighbors. However, unlike them, almost half of it is now given over to the Wild Garden, site of a Darwinian struggle for survival among many of the toughest plants on the block. (Comfrey, Jerusalem artichoke, lovage, tansy, and aronia are just a few of the contenders.)
Despite the intense competition, the Wild Garden is already lush and vibrant.
Unfortunately, the same can’t be said of the vegetable garden. After hours of planting, weeding, and mulching, it’s starting to resemble a garden. Kind of. But the plants are still puny, and my garden looks like its major crop is going to be dirt.
I’m hoping that when my baby vegetable garden becomes a teenager, it will look a little more like the Wild Garden. But not too much–I’d rather harvest my vegetables than forage for them.
Yes, I love my potted flowers. But the demanding, unruly garden has its charms as well.