As I was walking through the garden a few weeks ago I noticed some of the Foxglove, Digitalis, was getting legging and turning brown from the base of the stem almost to the top. Many were still green and forming seeds as well as flowers, but several seemed to be dying off while still producing one or two blooms at the top of the stem.
Some gardeners want their gardens to be perfect, not a stem out of place, not a weed popping up, not a stray plant or withered stem, faded bloom, or struggling seedling, or heavens, not a plant that doesn't belong to the "perennial class". (Dare I mention the word weed? I prefer to call them all wildflowers, while I ferret out the problem children for myself).
Some gardeners like to have their plants stand out individually, with mulch lovingly and painstakingly placed around them to keep out the unwanted.
Some gardeners like to have their plants in groupings, either to blend varieties or to display a mass of identical form.
Some gardeners like to have a variety of blooms, varied colors, contrasting within the context of the bed.
Some gardeners like to have a variety of foliage, varied colors, shapes and textures.
Some gardeners like to showcase specific species all within their own beds.
Some gardeners like the variety of all of the above.
As with life, gardeners come in all shapes, sizes, genders and ages.
As with nature, plants come in all different shapes, colors, sizes, ages.
There is consistency in gardening. The circle of life is recurring, it never fails us. We know it will always be back. All our plants go through their own annual cycle of life. And we get to observe this over and over again with each individual plant and creature in nature year after year after year.
We eagerly wait for our plants to pop up through the soil in the early spring, and oh, how much fun it is to greet each new arrival. The anticipation of greeting each plant as it once again begins its annual journey above the ground, the first green in the garden, the first plant, the first bloom, the first seedlings, the oh so many firsts to be had! And come on folks, don't you get a sense of excitement and joy when you see that first rabbit poke its head up somewhere in your yard?? Or a baby garter?? A frog?? A turtle?? A Hawk??
Then the process begins again, the gardening, the decisions to be made: what stays, what must go, what will be coming in, what will be shared, what will be allowed to go to seed, what "wildflowers" will be allowed in, which will have to go.
My gardens are another family to me. They have grown slowly, through my own two hands. I have been diligent some years, neglectful other years. I have chosen many of the members of my gardening family. Some have graciously chosen me. Some have been brought to me by friends and family, some by the creatures of nature, some by quirks of fate. But all have been welcomed wholeheartedly.
My gardening style has evolved over the years. When I lived in apartments, with no ground to work, I created my gardens indoors, through a variety of house plants. As I moved around over the years, sometimes I had garden space, sometimes not. I well remember the frustration of moving and having to leave beloved plantings behind. I also remember the joy and satisfaction I felt when I would be able to carry along plants to be relocated to a new garden.
How does one describe the warm feeling that seeps through your body as you walk through your gardens and spot a plant that came from a beloved relative or friend who is no longer with us? Or even one that just happens to be the same as one you used to see in a special person's garden. It really doesn't have to be the plant from their garden.
If that is the case, if you can be reminded of someone from a plant you remember, does it matter if it is the exact plant you have received from the person, or the same variety you have lovingly planted in your garden, which evokes those memories. I have heard from several of you who have lost beloved plants, which had been lovingly passed on by those oh so dear. I have also experienced this loss. For myself, I mourn the loss, and am so profoundly reminded of the pain of the loss of that person from my life. It takes time to adjust to any loss, even those in your gardens.
There will be a day when you will be able to reintroduce a certain plant which evokes those feelings into your garden. When you do, you will be reminded why you had loved the original plant. And you will grow to love the new one, as the unique individual plant it is. For me, it is similar to having pictures of people I love around my house.
I know those I love are smiling on me from within and without. Their love is always with me. It is not the things that remind me of them, it is the memories I have within that I hold dear, the memories, not the thing that reminds me of them. It is the immaterial that is important. At the end of our lives, what is it that we have - not the things we have accumulated, it's the memories. It is the little daily memories we make that will stay with us, not the things we accumulate.
And so, with the gardening season, at the end of the season, it is the memories of the plants that stay with us through the fall and winter and carry us into the following spring.
I am reminded of the aging Foxglove. I had thought of how, in prior years I might have pulled the plant even with one last bloom waiting to open, as most of the plant was already dead. But there was life still fighting to prevail in that aging Foxglove, and it continued to bloom, and then another bud would appear, and then another. The Foxglove, and a few others are still standing in the garden. I have left them as a reminder to myself of the cycle of all life. That Foxglove is one of the senior citizens of my garden.
Foxglove, a biennial, have a very short life cycle. They bloom early in spring, fade, die, and do not come up again. But before they die, they sow their seeds, for a new generation to begin. You will see many members of this new generation in my gardens. They will spend this year growing and establishing strong roots, so as to flourish next year, in its single year of bloom, before it, too, will sow its seeds and die.
There is a back story to the Foxglove in my garden. I had planted Foxglove, Digitalis purpurea, Foxy Mixed seeds in 1994. In my notes I wrote:
"some made it. 1995 - Poor year for Foxglove. Many died over the winter - many died beg. of June. 1999-some still coming up in various areas. '07 - just started coming up all over"
So my own seeding experience was not a great success with the Foxglove. They had all died off and I just chalked it up to another gardening attempt gone sour. Imagine my joy when I discovered the first little Foxgloves coming up last year, and my great pleasure at being able to share so many with friends and family. And then again, this year with so many of you. There are already little ones up this year getting ready for their own main show next year!
Had I mulched my gardens early in spring before weeds have a chance to sprout, I would have killed off the tiny seedlings that were planning to sprout last year. I would have missed out on this whole opportunity to experience this small circle of life.
(I use cycle and circle of life interchangeably here. A young man, very dear to my heart, who is burdened right now by Asperger's Syndrome, was visiting recently, and I told him about the cycle of life I was observing in my plants. He said "Oh, you mean the circle of life?? Like in "The Lion King?" And ever since I have been using either for the same thing, with such fond thoughts of my young friend)
So when you visit my garden in early spring, or even right now, and notice some parts are nicely mulched and others not, you will understand why. I want to leave room open for the possibilities of what may decide to visit my garden, or just pop up without expectation. So much like how my heart is always open to new experiences, people to love, things to enjoy, etc.
SO.......
This is what a healthy aging Foxglove looks like in my garden today. Its stem is green, its seedpods developing to ensure the continuation of its line for years to come.
And this is what the aforementioned senior citizen looks like, stem dying, no seed pods, bent from its struggle to survive, with a dear friend by its side.
These are photos of more seniors I have been enjoying in my gardens this season. They do not stand tall and regal in all their glory. They are tired and bent with the effort of sustaining their ever dwindling life.
And not to belittle the strong plants, who stand, tall, graceful, regal and strong. This beauty grew to be over six feet!
And these girls do the Foxglove family proud.
And then there were the photo moments I just could not resist in the gardens this morning!!
An aging Lupine, snuggling a friend within its bosom. Look closely, do you see it?
It's one of the Daylilies I divided and planted last fall. It must have needed the support and comfort of a grandmotherly plant to help it make it's way this spring. 
These are its siblings, already tall and strong on their own, starting to greet the new day with a new bloom.
And look at this hydrangea bloom, opening each petal, changing color, showing the potential of what the full blossom will become. And I must add here, that this is the hydrangea that I overdosed with lime to see some pink flowers this year - NOT HAPPENING!! See, plants do have minds of their own!!
Was greeted by this new Stokesia, Stoke's Aster bloom.
And............... the Poppy seeds are ready to be harvested!!
Have a great day - How absolutely glorious it is today! Need to get out in the gardens!!!
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