Kiss the Earth

This past weekend three gardening friends came to visit on three different days. This is the season for snooping and chatting and comparing and learning by talking and seeing what others do in their spaces.

Two were city friends, one from a close-in suburb, and they all know much more than I do about gardening. But we share the love! I learned something from each.

The Big Lesson in the world of gardening is that friendships flourish when you share this crazy affinity. It's usually described as a passion or an addiction, so in the interest of finding a non-cliched way of expressing it, I'll say affinity. But that has a rather clinical sound to it. If you are reading this blog, surely you know what I mean.

With each friend, I walked around the garden. We talked and talked in a language that non-gardeners would never get. (Sorta how I feel when my brothers start talking sports. Huh?!)

Where did you get that? one asked. I have that in my garden, said another. You could plant this and this and this in that space, offered the third. I should've taken notes.

They helped identify a plant that went in three summers ago but only broke ground this spring. It was such a fun surprise to see it, but I had no idea what it was.

They helped me realize I've planted a few things in the wrong place. They're small now, but destined for greater height and width, meaning they'll need to be moved.

They laughed with me when I described some of the dumb things I've done - and confessed to their own mistakes.

They answered my questions about dividing perennials and which roses might do well in which spots. They've been at this a long time, so I figured, this is my chance!

They loved the grapes and the giant hibiscus buds. They liked the look of lavender bee balm next to a tall variegated grass. Never seen meadow rue with such a big spray of purple flowers. They were amazed at how much sun I get. They offered suggestions for shade plants.

I know they have beautiful gardens, so I was happy they could enjoy mine. And then I hemmed and hawed at how shabby the vegetable garden looks. I need to rip out the bolting lettuce, I protested, and everything is so dry. A few weeks ago it looked smashing, but not now ...

What am I doing?! Everyone's garden is dry. Everyone's garden - unless you're employing an army - is looking a little piqued after the sprint through spring.

Relax! This is an "affinity," remember? This is fun.

I know that I know a lot more than I did a year ago and that I'm learning every single day. Friends can help. In the meantime, we enjoy each other's "affinity."