"We Demand a Shrubbery!"

“…….One that looks nice and is not too expensive.” If you don’t know this reference, I probably can’t do much to help! Monty Python’s Holy Grail features these enormous knights who confront King Arthur on his quest and demand a sacrifice of “shrubbery.” Makes total sense, right?

As funny as it was to me the first time I heard this sketch a million years ago, it somehow has just gotten funnier as I’ve gotten more involved with gardening over time. Ah, the shrubbery…..azaleas, boxwoods, junipers and the like; pretty much any round mound you can pick up for $9 at Lowe’s Home Improvement Center. There are some major crimes against landscaping happening in my neck of the woods, and misuse and abuse of shrubs is the number one offense.

It got out that you are supposed to plant “foundation shrubs” around your house. Occasionally this morphs into foundation trees, though I’m not sure why. Rarely is it taken into account what size these plants will become over time. It appears they are expected to stay the size they were when they were put in the ground. Too close to the house, too close to each other, lined up like soldiers with no variety behind another line of identical plants. Ack!

The whole look screams, “Whoever did this had no idea what they were really doing!” and the continued presence of these overgrown monotonous linear eyesores whispers, “And whoever lives here now has no idea what to do with it!”

Life can be this way. We do things out of ignorance, thinking we are doing something good, or at least expected. One day, the results just are……well……overgrown and out of place and kind of not what we were going for.

The beauty of the lessons of the garden for me is that, yes, it can be a ton of work to go back and undo some bad decisions. But it can be done. And better yet, undoing the wrong with a new plan in hand based on the lessons of the old effort can be incredibly satisfying.

For both you and your neighbors.

Blooming

Over 20 years ago, someone gave me a Mary Engelbreit card with the phrase, “Bloom Where You are Planted.” At the time, I found it really encouraging. It seemed to be saying that I could be my best self no matter where I ended up, and that I had the power to “bloom” regardless of the world around me.

Since I became serious about gardening, however, I’ve come to interpret this saying differently. It’s a lovely metaphor, and it has an important message; but I’m not sure it’s a complete metaphor, and if you know anything about the natural world it’s hard to make this the simple Hallmark card that people so often want it to be.

As represented in this photo, botanical life can have an admirable tenacity. Those seeds and roots are driven to flourish and reproduce, and they will do everything in their power to make it happen, even in less than ideal conditions. (I believe it was Jurassic Park that coined the phrase, “Life finds a way.”) So we are impressed with this tiny plant, and yet isn’t there also a feeling of wishing it more soil, more sun, more room? There is something about this image that while it engenders admiration, also makes my heart hurt.

As a gardener, I like to determine the best place for things I put in the ground. I don’t expect things to bloom wherever I put them, and frankly they don’t. Over the years I’ve had many failures due to overenthusiastic planting, or due to the belief that things just ought to grow and thrive wherever I put them or want them to be. It ain’t necessarily so, and nature will school you pretty fast on what will work and why, regardless of your will. Accepting this is one of many life lessons I honor from my gardening pursuits.