Impatiens

Sometime in mid-May, every year, I am driven by the overwhelming urge to get all my spring/summer planting done post haste so that my tender blooming annuals will have time to flourish and mature by the first of July. I assume I have an internal governor that controls this, thus assuring I will be rewarded for as much summer as possible with the blooming fruits of my back-breaking labors. This year was different though.

Oh, I did indeed scurry to get my favorites in the pots on my deck (having finally learned the local deer cannot destroy them there). I did a cursory pruning of the other beds hoping for new growth on the perennials I have planted in previous years. But in anticipation of my summer being hectic, realizing that I would be missing in action for much of June, I left some pots unplanted fearing they might not get watered and thus die anyway. I even stuck one of them, dry dirt and all, behind some larger pots, hiding its ugly emptiness from view.

May rolled over into June and June morphed into July. One thing after another kept me away from my yard and deck pots. They didn't seem to mind beng left to their own natural devices and what with the exceptional amount of rain we have had this year, my Begonias, Coleus, Amethyst Flowers, Stella d'Oros, Pincushions, Dusty Millers and other assorted plantings, whose names I do not know, happily filled out and blossomed even in my absence.

By early August, things having calmed down, I occasionally paused, in a spare moment, to stare out the side door, with pang of regret, at the pot under our bedroom window that still sat barren and forlorn. I recalled fondly the previous years and the cascading bright pink blooms that had usually taken over the spot by that time. I couldn't bring myself to go to the trouble to do a late planting. "Oh well, next year," I consoled myself.

And then, by mid-August, I noticed tiny green sprouts in that pot. I thought, "Well, what do you know, last year's Impatiens are trying to come back." I had no real hope for any spectacular rebirth before summer's end so I let them be. A week later I discovered the pot was miracurously blooming from one end to the other. Furthermore, the pot of dead soil that I had hidden was blooming as well and I gleefully dragged it out in front. No doubt I will be enjoying these bouquets at least until Thanksgiving – two full months in the distance. Amazing!

There is a lesson here, I'm sure of it. The obvious seems to conclude that I am too boxed in to fixed expectations and I really should lighten up. I live my life by the clock, list and calendar, scurrying around making sure everything is done according to a schedule. This has to be done by that time and that has to be done by this time or…what? In my efficient life-processing I fear I am missing out on some really good serendipidous joy.

Or what? I can’t answer that. But like I said, there’s a lesson here for me if not all of us.

Maybe you can figure it out.