Behind the posts, articles, conferences and social media, there’s a backstory. Have you kept up with the digital correspondence between Ranters Scott Beuerlein and Marianne Willburn? You can start here, [...]
Cincinnati, Ohio November 3, 2024 Dear Marianne, I don’t know about you, but I garden a lot more productively when I’m rushed and surly. And I’ve been both lately. Having [...]
This year was the best Spring I can remember. It just rolled out soft and sweet. No late freezes, no extreme temps, no bad storms, and lovely, beautiful, consistent precipitation. It was wonderful and I don’t know which was worse, that the heat and drought came on like someone had thrown a switch or knowing that it would.
For those who plant them in rows, expect rows. Those who plant them in drifts, expect drifts. And those who plant them where they would plant themselves, will expect to see that. And all will be lifted by the dependably sunny blooms on cold spring days.
I'm thinking my life has maybe culminated. I'm no longer working towards this big thing. The big thing is over and now it's kind of like I'm being stretchered away from it.
Some of these combinations are quite good. Some came by intent, some by serendipity. However they happened, that’s what years of growth and crowding, forgotten sowings, and much, much more allows. It’s what happens when wait-and-see wisdom gradually undermines sheer energy and willpower.
Thus, years and years of collecting has steadily been undone by an almost equal number of years de-collecting. It was hard at first, got easier over time, and now I remove an ugly plant with a strange grin on my face. It’s a god-like power I wield maniacally.
If you insist on traipsing around in the hollers of Virginia like Lewis and Clark, out there randomly meandering about along with all the various drug runners, moonshiners, and village psychopaths. Making yourself subject to the mood, hunger, and whims of every snake, spider, bear, and cougar loose in the woods. Completely vulnerable to things like quicksand, booby traps, landmines, and God knows whatever else, then at least be smart. Bring a teenage girl with you! Which, in fact, is what Lewis and Clark did. They knew.
