Imperfect Gardener

by Adina Sara

Cosmos truce. Photo by Adina Sara.

Beware the Wayward Cosmos

I had no business leaving it there, smack in the middle of the step leading down into the garden. It looked as though the bird who planted it (how else did it get there?) had used a ruler, carefully marking 18 inches, the step's exact midpoint. I knew it was a cosmos seedling from its distinctive feathery leaves. I had planted several packets in a bed on the other side of the garden, none of which ever made it through the soil. But this vagrant seed came up in what couldn't have been a more inconvenient spot.

I went to pull it, but something made me stop. "Just let it go a while," the unreasonable part of my gardener's brain whispered. It wasn't going to get watered anyway, and it would be constantly trampled throughout the day. My dog would more than likely mark it with lethal doses of nitrogen on her way into the house. Why bother to pull it? And so I didn't.

You've probably already guessed that the cosmos survived. Too well in fact. By the time I decided it was foolish to leave it there, the plant had put out three long stalks of brilliant pink flowers, as if daring me to destroy it.

We established a kind of truce. I'd carefully walk around it as long as it continued to bloom. One drooping day and it would be a goner. The challenge came when my husband had to move a load of mulch down the steps in a wheelbarrow, needing the space that was now blocked by the blooming cosmos. "Wait," I said, because by now we had a game going. I tenderly cradled the plant over to one side of the step, leaving barely enough room for the wheelbarrow to squeeze through. My husband shook his head, well aware of my folly in allowing this plant to grow in the worst of all possible places. "It's an annual," I assured him. "It won't be there much longer."

But the cosmos has beat me at my own game. New flowers have already formed beside last week's drooping blooms, promising at least several more weeks of brilliant color. I have grown used to squeezing past it, and know that I will miss it when its time is over.'

This is why I don't give gardening advice.

WHERE TO GO FOR GARDEN INFORMATION

Two great Web sites for learning about plants, their descriptions, habitats, and needs, are www.calflora.org and www.sunset.com/plantfinder.'

The UC Botanical Garden holds a sick-plant clinic the first Saturday of every month from 9 a.m. to noon to help you identify and heal your plant problems.

Join TheMetroGardenClub\@yahoogroups.com and benefit from the huge landscape of resources, ideas, and plant exchanges in our Metro community.

Ed. note: Adina's book, The Imperfect Garden—A Memoir, is available at the Laurel Book Store. For more information, www.adinasara.com.