When the box arrives there is a second form of anticipation I call the Christmas rush… the rush of feelings of anticipation while carefully cutting the box open to see the new arrivals. Gently unwrapping each roll of paper to see the condition and health, the size, of the new prize. Standing the containers up and arranging the new perennials on a table to be admired, and have one’s feeling of anticipation relieved. They arrived, they are safe, and they are mine.
Next an afternoon to give each arrival a permanent home in the garden, hopefully matching the conceived arrangement. Safely in their new bed, a blanket of mulch is pulled over them while they sleep off the stress of travel and transplant.
The third form of anticipation is the quiet and long-suffering wait until next spring arrives and green noses begin to pop through the blanket of mulch. I know I will begin my pacing paths in the garden come late winter, not able to wait until spring, watching to see my labors and anticipation rewarded.
Finally the Plants
This fall my mind’s eye has a vignette of Choices