millefleur
Every spring I plan on planting more annuals and every summer I fall short of the desired effect. At least this year I have an excuse: after clearing up the shrubbery from a large portion of the front yard, the design of a new perennial border became a priority.
There seems to be a quiet understanding among the plants that every year a precious few will get to shine while the others considerately fade into the background. It’s not something you learn from gardening books, the garden teaches the gardener a thing or two over the years.
This summer was all about petunias, last year I couldn’t dig myself out of lantanas, a couple of years ago the marigolds were everywhere. You can sort of guess which annuals are going to run the show that year by observing the tables at the plant nursery in spring, but there is no way to tell a year in advance. It works for vegetables too, for instance this season I’ve got nothing but eggplant and basil. Not even parsley, no ma’m.
If we were talking about perennial plants, one could bring up the argument that the plants need to have a year of rest every now and then, and they take turns to do that, but that is certainly not the case for annuals.
I guess nature works at a higher level where this staggered pattern makes sense. It keeps the balance and variety of plant life by allowing it to skip years at a time while it runs the thread of genetic continuity above and below ground with the artistry of a master embroider making a millefleur tapestry.
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