That Time of Year

It was a cool sunny day and that time of the year when I enjoy looking out my bedroom window at the star and saucer magnolias. The first order of the day was to pour myself a cup of coffee, get dressed, and walk around my house to see which plants survived the winter. It was that time of year.

It never ceases to amaze me when something I planted the year before survives the winter, especially if I leave the plant in a pot. I’m excited on the last trip to the garden store in early fall to find some great buys. These deals are usually in a small corner of the store with an orange or yellow sign with the words Close Outs in bold letters.

Last year in late August, I found three summer-beaten and abused bushes in 1-gallon pots. Two Hydrangeas, of which one was woody -possibly zone 5 - and the other had variegated leaves, which I kept in my garage during the winter. The third plant was a Red Lake Currant bush - a zone 4 plant. The currant had a tag. Normally I stay away from zone 5 plants; those plants that will probably die when the temperature reaches -10 degrees. All things considered with Chicago weather, there are no guarantees that plants will survive even in zone 4, which is a minimum of -20 degrees. Zone 3 gives me assurance of seeing the plant again regardless of the weather.

I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup for warmth as I walked towards the largest garden in the front of my house. Clutching my cup with one hand, I reached to move some leaves and uncovered some Bells of Heaven. About 15” from the Bells is the Hellebores’ with pink and white flowers. Burned by the winter cold, it had survived its abuser.

It is from such sightings I draw my energy to garden. First a quick glance at my Spireas that screamed, “Give me a haircut.” I knew it was time to do some spring cleaning and cutting. Plus the weather was still cool enough to guarantee a successful transplant. However, before I do anything I wanted to sit in my swing and finish my coffee. From where I was sitting, I could see the robins busy flapping around in the birdbath. I still have problems understanding why birds take baths in 40-degree weather. Seeing the magnolias from a different perspective, I looked up into the sky and thanked God for letting me see such a beautiful day. As I took my last sip of coffee, I headed for the house to rid myself of my coffee cup in exchange for shears, a small rake, and a garbage bag.

I’m always so eager to start planting that I forget I’m not in Tennessee. This spring I promised myself I would wait before I started digging. In years passed I planted annuals only to find out that there was a perennial in that spot last year. This became apparent after reviewing last year’s garden pictures - I had murdered a plant after it had spent so much energy surviving Chicago’s weather. This year I will slow down and count the flowers I have, and only invite those one-season friends into my space if there is room.

Judas' of God

Look at you! Judas’ of God
Your actions of faith are in vein
You’ve masked your true intent to serve
God sees your heartless shame.

Faith has given way to a faster culture
Compassion for people a thing of the past
Pretending to care has become hypercritical
Out reach to one’s brother blankly cynical.

When you give, you should give from the heart
Otherwise the act is soiled
When you help, help from the soul
Otherwise the deed is spoiled.

Look at you, Judas’ of God
Your iniquities will be your undoing
And the roles you play because of tradition
Will serve as your own blind conviction.