Where The Wild Things Are

|Aster sp.|

|Aster sp.|

So here I am with a new house and a new backyard to garden and I still haven't had much time to break ground yet.  In the meantime, I've been doing some exploring.  The previous owner littered the garden with cast off Easter Lilies and Chrysanthemums that were obviously given as gifts.  Half of them are still in their pots covered in faded holiday foil, half submerged in the quasi flower beds that are throughout the yard.  The look lacks any sense of style and is very dated.  Unfortunately for these plants their days are numbered.  They're just not my thing.  But the other day while exploring the overgrown bushy back of the property line I came across a clump of some very old fashioned Asters.  I have a feeling some seeds were dumped years ago and through some miracle this clump emerged against all odds.

I was overcome with nostalgia looking at these flowers.  Reminded me of being 7 years old  and planting some Aster seeds I ordered , with my allowance, from the back of Parade Magazine.  My dad let me make a small garden plot at the edge of the woods on our property.  At the end of that particular summer the asters were in full force mingling with tall weeds.  I remember seeing butterflies and bees all over their blooms.  The building sound of cicadas sounding off their power line purring was up in the trees.  I remember the feeling of success I felt having rendered something from seed to flower.  Its amazing when you participate with nature.  Whether your participation is active or inactive...it's a powerful thing.