There are moments that suddenly take me back to a time and recent events have taken me right back to one. Regular readers know that I grow plants that remind of people and places and cats. The Chionathus virginicus in my garden was planted in memory of my dear departed cat Chesney.
As I started to write this piece I was shocked to realise it is twelve years since he died. Twelve years and yet I still think of him and his fluffy silliness. The planting of this fringe tree was important for me. I don't need a plant to remember Chesney, I do that without thinking, but to see it grow is still having a living moment in the garden that is just his. I want to say 'seeing it grow and thrive', but the truth is it is struggling and up until the other day, I thought this year it had died.
I was really quite upset about this. I had relocated this shrub a few years ago when I nearly moved house but didn't (don't ask) and when I replanted it I put it somewhere new. A mistake I now think when looking back. It just has not thrived in the new spot and, to all intents and purposes, I thought it was dead.
I had done that 'scraping away a tiny bit of bark to see if there was green underneath or 'wick' as Dickon in the Secret Garden would say; and it was. There was that gleam of green that spells hope; but nothing was happening.
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments are approved before being published