Roots

I always used to think moving was exciting. The packing up, discovering a new place, meeting new people; all of it. We moved a handful of times when I was growing up, and I can still remember the giddy feeling of running through an empty house, opening every drawer and cupboard to see if any treasures were left behind, claiming a room as my own, then starting to open boxes.

In college I moved every year (twice a year, if you count moving home for the summer, then moving back to a new apartment in the fall); then I got married. In our almost 9 years of marriage we have moved 4 times so far. 

First home, first attempts at gardening: Kansas, 2007

 

While some excitement still remains, I'm starting to long for roots. For a place to stay from year to year, where I can watch my children, trees, and gardens grow, where I know every neighbor and every park and every grocery store. 

Now each time I move, I miss my friends, the comfort and convenience of knowing my way around, and yes, I miss my plants! It sounds kind of silly, but I sometimes wonder how my flowerbeds are holding up, or if the new owners have torn everything out to put their own ideas in. Friends have blogs or email addresses or phone numbers--I can keep up on their lives. With my flowers, I'm left to wonder: did all those happy hours dreaming up plans and digging in the dirt pay off? Are my flowers bringing joy to someone else now?

 

Missouri flowers, 2009 

 

Each place we live has presented different challenges, gardening-wise. I'd like to think I've learned something at each stop along the way.

One thing I have learned is that gardens are built in layers: hardscaping, trees, shrubs, perennials & annuals, bulbs, grass.  Then you have to add in local weather and climate, soil conditions, wildlife, pests. Heck, it takes a year or two just to get your bearings!

Another lesson that has been driven home again and again is that my time and resources are limited, so all my grand gardening dreams and plans must be taken on one layer or piece at a time. All too often, our moves (though necessary and good news from a big-picture point of view) have come when I was only 2 or 3 layers in. Just as I was really starting to get a feel for the space and what I'd like to see there. 

Front flowerbed, Washington, 2012

 



I'm ready to make it through all the layers! To see the pieces come together, one by one, to match the vision in my mind--or not, as the case may be. To eat apples and grapes from my own trees and vines. Literally, to see my labors bear fruit. To put down some roots and stay awhile!

In the meantime, I enjoy what I have while it's mine. I savor the beauty and fill my head with plans. I take pictures and post them on my blog to enjoy later. And try to learn a little something from each place.