Most of my neighbors have lovely, well-kept yards. Their lawns are green and they have symmetrical plantings in their garden beds. Mine? Well, it’s a bit different.
I just can’t wrap my head around linear suburban perfection. Instead, I would call my yard a jumble of unorganized chaos. My lawn is mown, but the plants are mis-matched and unruly and tend to try and escape the confines of the beds.
My front walk is often hidden by misbehaving hydrangea bushes. No matter how hard I prune, they insist on spilling over into the front walk every year. I keep a crate of cool drinks and protein bars by the front door as treats for the poor delivery people who manage to traverse the maze to the door.
My backyard is even more of a hodge-podge. I’ve mixed fruit trees, vegetables, herbs and flowers in wild abandon. It looks like I shut my eyes and just threw seeds around.
I see pictures online of neat-rowed gardens and tidy, well thought out yards. They make me feel peaceful, but I just can’t seem to duplicate the look for myself.
I do have fans of my yard though. My four grandkids think it’s the best.
Maybe it’s because nothing is off-limits to them. If they want a wading pool in the middle of the lawn, they know Nana doesn’t care about it killing the grass. If they water the plants with the hose turned up to full-blast, those plants will just have to adapt or get pulled up. They are free to explore and experiment at Nana’s house and they love it.
The kids’ favorite part of the gardens are the treasures they find. Two giant blueberry bushes are the site of a lot of snacking and blueberry fights with the small unripe ones. The raspberry hedge is picked over so that Nana will make their favorite jam. Digging for potatoes feels like hunting for buried treasure to them and the peas are eaten right in the garden.
From carrots, radishes and beets to tomatoes and towering sunflowers, you never know what you’ll find in Nana’s garden and that’s the fun of it.
So, while I drool over tidy gardens, I know I will never have one. The joy and wonder I see in my grandkids’ faces is well worth all the wildness my yard can produce.
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