Walking around the garden this morning, I felt the anticipation within me build. All throughout the landscape borders, daylilies (Hemerocallis spp.) are sending up flower stems of various heights. Within a few days, the first of them will open, signaling the beginning of the next large wave of garden blooms. While these significant flushes of color become milestones along the path, they fail to define clear edges of the different periods of the gardening year because the garden and the individual plants that comprise it are constantly in transition.
Baptisia australis (False Indigo) sheds the remnants of its dead and dried flower petals as green seed pods form in their place.
The berries of Amelanchier arborea (Serviceberry) slowly ripen, providing a sweet snack for the birds that frequent the garden.
The tight green buds of Hydrangea 'Annabelle' begin to open, transforming the shrub from a mass of green to rounded snowball of white.
I've worked the soil of this garden for a decade, but until this year had never quite noticed the daily -- even hourly -- transitions that occur. The garden is in a continual state of flux. Perhaps what attracts me so much to growing plants. It provides me with the change that I contsantly crave. The word static has no place in a garden.