When I leave one garden for another, as I did this year, I always take something from the old – to help "season" the new, something familiar to help the new place feel a little more familiar. Cuttings, of course. House plants, naturally.
And selected artifacts that make a garden more than just plants. Unpacking doodads and putting them in the new garden is an occasion worth noting, an indication that the settling in is reaching another level.
Months after arriving and beginning a new garden:
The Blues are back.
These ribbons tied to tomato stakes were familiar stars in my East Haddam, Connecticut, garden. I introduced the Blues in this post and never failed to consult them when I wanted to know which way the wind was blowing, as in the image below showing the blues getting whipped around by northwesterly gusts on a blustery New England day.
Well, here in Marietta, Georgia, no wind was blowing when I finally hauled the Blues out of their traveling bags, shook them off and began jabbing them into the Georgia soil.
Not all of them have been planted yet; some must be refurbished, as their ribbons have gotten frayed and faded. And those that were able to get planted had no wind, not even a breeze, to make them look zippy.
I could relate. Moving and starting over in a new place is ultimately energizing, reinvigorating, one hopes. But, in the meantime, it will wear you down to a nub. Welcome back Blues; join us in recovery.
"I hope our Blues get wind," Lyn said on the still and dim morning after they reappeared. Me too.