Serendipitous butterflies
A tale of procrastination, inertia, gardens gone feral, & milkweed
This was to be the year I got outside early and began the process of taming the feral gardens. I would dig up as many of the yellow canna lily tubers as humanly possible. Plant some in other areas where their aggressive sprawling is a bonus, and give away buckets full to fellow gardeners in the community. I would prepare the nascent bed by the elderberry so I could dig the milkweed to transplant as soon as it came up. Before it formed the flower heads. That is where the large swath of pollinator gardens, rain gardens, cutting gardens of perennials and annuals are to begin their arc around the front of my little acre out here on yonder hill.
This garden I can see from the kitchen window is to be a riot of color from spring thru fall with the Aphrodite Calycanthus x Carolina Allspice shrub the anchoring centerpiece. Not an overly regimented garden as tidy & orderly are not adjectives one would use to describe me.
The season had its way with me, and while I managed to dig up a few buckets of canna tubers and some milkweed starts to transplant, there was no keeping up. The house has been much the same. The “hard deadline” of March 30th whooshed on by. There has been and continues to be progress, but no. Not done by any stretch of the imagination. This has been a source of frustration and the inner mean girl shouting loudly about my ineptitude. Until today.
While doing dishes, I looked out the kitchen window and saw flights of butterflies cavorting above the blooms of milkweed, butterfly weed, and the calycanthus. They were flitting over to the large oak by the back door then returning to the milkweed. There were many dozens of them. I laughed out loud, turned off the faucet, grabbed my phone and went outside.
It was magical. The sweet musk of the milkweed is heady. The increasingly loud constant chorus of cicadas emerging in the wooded areas across the east fence line, the wind chimes near the living room window, and of course, the butterflies. Dozens upon dozens of butterflies. Fat bumble bees, and tiny moths abound as well.
I laughed and smiled. Perhaps a tear or two which is okay as well.
The inner mean girl is silent this evening. It seems serendipitous butterflies render her mute.
Sally- Feral milkweed and butterflies in one piece. It's definitely inspired me to search for a way to be outdoors this weekend. I appreciate this.