It’s hard to think of it as spring, as it seems almost this entire month of March has been filled with cold days, windy weather, dreary rain, and even snow! And not even the good snow that piles up and makes for great sledding for a day or two, but mushy, wet snow that melts away before you get a chance to play in it.
That’s what makes me all the more happy whenever I turn into our driveway and see my periwinkle in full bloom. I think this year it is blooming more than ever. And as much as I hate to admit it, it’s probably due in part to Bill. I planted some sprigs of periwinkle on that steep bank of red clay 9 years ago when we moved into our house, knowing that it would spread quickly and help control erosion while looking pretty year-round. Granted, the red clay wasn’t the most welcoming place to plant it, so the periwinkle didn’t spread as fast as I wanted it to. Which means that instead of choking out all other growth, there are grasses that have made their way into that area here and there.
For the past few years, Bill has mowed up the side of that bank at the end of the summer to cut back the tall grass, and every time I fuss at him for mowing down my periwinkle. Just when it seems to be bushing out a little, he cuts it back, and I worried that it would stunt its growth. But it has continued to spread, and has finally covered the whole bank.
So as much as I hate to admit it, I feel like Bill gets some of the credit for all these beautiful blooms. I know that cutting back perennials and shrubs will often encourage more blooms. That, along with the slow-release fertilizer I finally remembered to throw out last year, have made the periwinkle look better than ever.
Together, we have made a pretty little entry-way. And our unexpected teamwork in the garden seems very symbolic of the teamwork it takes for a healthy marriage. Sometimes it might not be obvious that what he or I are doing is helping each other out, but as long as we are working toward the same goals, our efforts aren’t wasted. Sure, it takes a gardener to see a symbol of marriage within a bloom of periwinkle. But isn’t spring a time for finding symbolism in nature? Here’s just one more to add to the fertile bunnies that led to Easter bunnies bringing treats and butterflies symbolizing new life through Christ.
2 Responses
Your blog made me want to go check OUR periwinkle! My elderly neighbor once told me it would always travel north. True or not, these old timers are often correct in their predictions…& she was always knowledgeable about plants, often sharing and dividing her lilies of the valley or peonies with me. I miss her!
I remember one year on this day Elkin got 8 inches of snow! I remember it because our garden club had taken a trip to Nachez, MS and it snowed there also. This week at the beach it has been unseasonably cold there too – one evening we opened the door to see penny sized hail.
But this is still my favorite season (I think) with the daffodils and camellias blooming, and the peonies sending up their shoots. Surely the warm weather will follow.
You’re right, so many things that the “old timers” say that just seem like old sayings end up having a lot of truth to them. I think it comes from years and years of experience, and things being passed down from generation to generation. When we moved out to Statesville from Atlanta when I was in middle school, my dad really wanted to grow a vegetable garden. One of the women in the church told him not to plant anything until the oak leaves were as big as a squirrel’s ear. When I started writing for Carolina Gardener and learned about last frost dates and all that, I started paying attention, and right around April 15, when it’s “safe” to plant here, is exactly when oak leaves are as big as a squirrel’s ear.
There’s still a chance of snow in the forecast, but hopefully it’s the last time for this year!