Once upon a time I really struggled with my relationships with plant life. I had friends that would venture over and water my house plants for me. I think they felt sorry for the poor things that had been given to me by other friends. Rumor had it that I had a really black thumb…
I still have the same thumbs.
While I have always appreciated plants; enjoying the look and feel of having plants around, I hadn’t been as attentive to their needs as one must be to make them happy and help them to thrive. That has since changed. I am not a plant whisperer, or a master gardener. I do enjoy working in our yard, watching little seeds become seedlings and then, over time develop into (hopefully) a full-grown and healthy plant. I don’t always succeed. In fact, more often than not I don’t. Our yard might say otherwise but maybe I really do have a black thumb. If so, I have found that if you have patience, and throw enough seeds at the problem you can camouflage that malady pretty well!
I tend to avoid using pesticides and other chemicals in our yard. Some of our inhabitants may not look as pretty or pristine as some people prefer, but there don’t seem to be any complaints from the birds, bees or other (wild or domestic) visitors who frequent this place. There haven’t been too many losses due to bad bugs, if any, at least I can’t think of any off the top of my head. My good bugs who otherwise would be harmed as well by such measures seem to take care of that problem for me.
Also, and here is where some of that patience comes in, I try to let the plants tell me where they want to be. I transplant a lot. I see it as creating art with the yard as our canvas. For paint I have the trees (living and in log form), bushes, vegetables, rocks, flowers, herbs, bricks, pots and other planters, and whatever other bric-a-brac suits my fancy at the moment. Some parts of the canvas still await inspiration.