A friend gifted me a vanilla strawberry hydrangea (paniculata) three years ago, and it has finally grown taller than I am. I planned for this to happen someday. I purposefully planted it outside my kitchen window and near the patio so eventually I could enjoy the huge blooms while I make my coffee in the morning, and gain a little privacy as I walk to the raised beds.
I love this so much. I planted a Siberian hibiscus this week in front of a shared fence that often fails- this morning I reminded myself the cracks are how the light gets through.
I also planted a wild rose earlier this summer. Both of these guys sit across from my garden bench and I’m excited to watch them grow.
When I first started gardening I didn’t give as much thought to how things would need space to fill in and grow tall. I think of the future so much more now.
I have terrible luck with hydrangeas but I think it might be our climate. I am trying to be more careful with them. I am so much more careful now.
I dream big but I sometimes struggle with envy. This past week I was envious of my friends’ blooming garden in her new home. I couldn’t quite believe all that she had created in one year and I felt like less things were blooming in my garden which I have been cultivating for six years. I didn’t say this to her, instead I said how amazed I was by what she had created in such a short time span and that the act of doing that gives me hope. Which is true. And her garden reminded me that I could probably pay a little more attention to mine - and doing that put me back in myself and in my gratitude for what I had cultivated and for my hopes for what I want to create in the future.