Patience Has Its Rewards

As I was unlocking the door to the house yesterday, I was hit with an overwhelmingly sweet fragrance in the air. I turned to see if the neighbor’s lilac tree had suddenly burst into bloom due to the unseasonably warm (actually down right hot!) weather we’ve been having lately, but, no! It was my own garden omitting this lovely smell!

When Mark and I bought our house four and a half years ago, one of the things we were most excited about was learning how to garden. Neither of us had any experience, and although I am from a long line of green-thumbed gardeners, I had up to that point failed miserably in keeping even the most basic of house plants thriving. The first two years were a learning experience and we focused most of our energy on the small front yard, the only place that had any real sun. Our back yard was entirely shaded, and although we did try growing a few things in the beginning, we quickly learned to appreciate it for the magnificent maple tree that cast shade from morning to night. We loved this tree for the cool conditions it provided even on the hottest of summer days, and for the privacy it allowed us on our small suburban lot. Our back yard was our oasis.

After two summers of severe thunderstorms, we started to realize that this tree might not be the blessing we once thought. Storms would bring large limbs crashing into our yard and, more frighteningly, into our neighbor’s driveway. They had lived with this tree longer than we had and knew to move their car out to the street before a storm hit! Then one storm brought a limb the size of a small tree crashing into our neighbor’s HOUSE. It hit with a large thump (at this point we had started nervously watching the tree during big storms so we saw it happen) and it hit the wall where their two children were sleeping. Fortunately no one was hurt and the house miraculously went unscathed, but clearly this was a sign. We called the professionals and were told that the tree was rotten on the inside, due to someone cutting off one of three main trunks years ago and neglecting to seal it properly. We looked into having the limbs wired to prolong its life, but there wasn’t even a place sturdy enough to do that. Alas, the tree had to come down and our shady, private oasis was to become a thing of the past.

There was a brief period of mourning and regret over the loss of our beautiful tree. Then we turned our sights to the possibilities our new sunny yard offered. We could finally have the thriving vegetable garden and perennial borders that we had dreamed of! I spent the spring researching and planning, planning and researching. We spent endless hours in hard manual labor that summer; removing grass and weeds, all by hand without an ounce of chemical, rimming a long bed with native field stone from a flat we purchased during a clearance sale at a local landscaping company, and encircling the crab apple tree with a raised bed of the same stone. We also lay down a small patio under the apple tree, now the only shady spot in the yard. We emended the beds with compost (Mark is a devout composter!), and carefully chose perennials and annuals that would attract butterflies and require minimal watering. At the end of the summer we sat back and appreciated all our hard work but, as any gardener will understand, the beds looked naked and immature, seasons away from the images in our heads. We hoped that in time we would reap the rewards we imagined. At the end of the season I added one last touch; hundreds of late blooming daffodils that I chose for their reported fragrance. As I turned to identify the sweet smell in the air yesterday afternoon, I as at last rewarded with beautiful daffodils, my hard work and patience in all its glory!



OK, as you might have guessed, there is an analogy in there somewhere. I feel so fortunate to have one of those marriages that can be called an oasis. It is a cool summer day…a comfortable, low maintenance, private haven that we joyously retreat to each and every day. There was a brief period of storm when I so very much wanted to start our family, but job instability prevented us from moving forward. Words, like brittle tree limbs, came crashing down during that time but fortunately no serious damage was done. And then there are the obvious lessons we have learned about patience and the timing of nature from our seasons as gardeners. As a couple embarking on parenthood, we have done hard work as a team, we have put down a strong foundation, we understand that patience has its rewards, and we look forward to reaping those rewards that we can only imagine now. These children will be our long awaited sunny garden, the productive fruit of our family garden. We hope and pray that we will be blessed with the knowledge, and, yes, the patience, to nurture these children to their full glory.