I’m not much of a plant-grower.

There’s probably a better term for it, but the fact all I can come up with is plant-grower probably tells you something.

I appreciate beautiful plants, but I usually kill them. And you might find it sad to know that I’m sort of okay with that. I mean, we can’t be good at everything, right? And I certainly appreciate beautiful plants. I just don’t want to put in the effort I know they take.

But I wanted a little splash of color near my front door this year. (With help) I fostered two large planters filled with a variety of flowers all summer. They got a good start, mainly because I kept sending pictures of possibilities to my mom while I was at the greenhouse, and she worked her green-thumb magic during the planting process. They grew…and grew…and grew. The tiny plants that looked dwarfed in the giant planters crowded together and spilled over the edge to reach the ground. They weren’t perfectly manicured or balanced. Some colors and species grew faster than others. I watered regularly and turned the planters to make sure they were getting fair sunshine.

They flourished.

Before long, I’ll empty the planters and store them for the winter. My front walk will look a bit bleak for a few months. When I plant next spring, who knows what the outcome will be? But I’m grateful for stepping outside my comfort zone and the beauty that grew because of it.

I think there’s a lesson in that, don’t you?