On May 18, a freak hailstorm caused more than $6 billion (with a B!) in damage to Denver’s west side, creating a six-month closure to a nearby shopping mall and taking out roofs, car windshields, skylights, trees and landscaping with baseball-sized orbs of ice hurtling at speeds of 117 mph. Somehow the interior of my condo complex (we’re built in a big square around several acres of “greenly spirits”*) was spared, and my garden was not decimated
*(I thank you God/ for most this amazing day,/ for the leaping greenly spirits of trees/ and a blue true dream of sky…… –e.e. cummings)
My garden was, however, squashed not once but twice in May by two sloppy, wet snowstorms that mashed my columbines, tulips and 3′ peony bush to the ground. The columbines survived; the tulips didn’t come back; the peony bush lost all but one of its probably 40 buds. It never rose up again and is now a dense mass of leafy ground cover.
The lone peony, the brave sole survivor of a bizarre late spring, has just died off. Long live the peony!
My garden is gorgeous this mid-June. The two snows–each were about six inches–brought out the most glorious of each flower. They are flourishing. Perhaps the unexpected stress of being buried twice under snow when they were already in bud and bloom activated their hardiness and resilience.
Their example has offered me the opportunity to review the times in my own life when adversity has caused me to dig deep, sink down my roots, and thrive. The result: Unexpected beauty!
Your turn! How does your garden grow?
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