Work schedule, weather, family, and other opportunities made planting my spring flowers a bit challenging. I wasn’t sure when I’d have a block of time sufficient enough. But I decided to fit it in one weeknight. I shopped for the flowers I needed, not finding exactly what I planned but other good options that would stretch me to try new things. I picked up mulch, which was challenging, since all remaining bags were broken open to varying degrees. I found enough to make it work. I set up my hose and other necessities for the summer, and I got started.
I had to move along quickly, and the sun started to set, but I got everything planted and well-watered before the dark completely set in. I couldn’t stand back and enjoy it too much, and I needed to get a shower and move on to something else, but it felt good to get it done.
In the weeks that followed, I’ve enjoyed watching the squeezed-in-planting-session blossom. I’ve watered and nurtured. I know not everything will grow well, but the flowers always surprise me.
I enjoy savoring experiences. I like to steep in the joy. But sometimes the steeping process isn’t so much the length of time as the intensity of focus. Today, even if you are squeezing something into your schedule, pause long enough to savor the joy involved in it.
This sounds familiar! My husband and I like to shop for flowers and garden plants, but the last few years our weather has been so unpredictable in the spring that we gave up starting too soon. Consequently, when we decided to look for rose bushes to plant, they were pretty much already gone. My husband had a specific want: he wanted a peace rose in honor of his mother. We found a plant last weekend, and so far it is still in its pot in front of the house, but I have watered it and it has new blooms. My husband had been dubious, but this evening he commented he really liked it. (It also smells wonderful, which has been hard to find also!) I usually plant rose moss in planters (moss rose? I tend to get it backwards; it is also called portaluca). My dad always planted that, remembering his own mother, who was a prolific gardener. I have gradually gotten the multiple plants transplanted, still have a few to go. It is always an adventure!