It was all perfect. The air was refreshing, the sun mild, the breeze tickled. I finally have dappled shade to sit in under the birch trees that surround the Birch Garden. The plants in all the gardens have filled in and look so nice.The nepeta and sundrops and dianthus and what is left of the salvia were quivering with bees, hundreds of them.
Butterflies flitted everywhere. The whole garden was just alive with feeding, flying, zipping critters. Birds called and swooped all over the yard.
I went from garden space to space, sat a little, tweaked a branch, and just enjoyed it all, for hours this morning. The Drive By garden needs work, but I was okay with just ignoring that for now. I spent the whole morning wandering and thinking how restful it looks.
It's a real garden now. Changes are needed, but it is no longer so raw and unfinished. It's perfect just the way it is. The hummingbird visits every few minutes. The clematis is abloom. The smokebush foliage is iridescent. The Red Drift rose is a ball of red.
Even the hodgepodge of plants under the maple in Meadow's Edge are more cohesive now. The creekbed bridge just fits. The meadow hasn't overwhelmed yet.
Then we went out this afternoon and I bought a large Forest Pansy redbud to replace the little one that was lost. And a John Clayton honeysuckle for the tuteurs by the meters where the sweetpeas are doing nothing so far.
Changes after all. New plants. And it was all so perfect this morning!
