the garden and the runner
let me tell you about my tuberoses.
i’m a gardener; not by trade – just by feel. i haven’t got alot of experience – it’s mostly just anecdotal evidence combined with a few years of trial and error. the underpinnings of this hobby though are a deep, sincere love for my garden and a passion for flowers.
of all the flowers in my garden, i love the tuberoses the most. last summer, my tuberoses bloomed with such glory that people would walk up my driveway to ask me what the smell was. my son, whose bedroom is above the garden, would fall asleep at night and say: “mummy, i smell your fwowers”. i wear tuberose perfume year round to remind myself of their spectacular fragrance. no hyberbole. there are truly breathtaking.
there’s not alot of magic to growing tuberoses…it’s alot of trial and error in the beginning…but it doesn’t take too too long to figure it out. it seems silly to me to consider following some sort of spreadsheet or table that would direct me how to grow a tuberose…i mean – here’s what you do: you plant the bulb in a safe place and you take care of the soil in a diligent way…you basically give it it’s base…and when the bulb sprouts…you keep you eye on it. the tuberose needs a simple combination of sun, light, food and shade – and while there may indeed be alot of science behind that combination – you can use your judgement and adjust as you go. if the ground looks a little wet – let it dry out…if it’s getting too much shade – do what you need to do to get it some light – to coax its growth. i mean, sun will kick its ass and if you add a little fertilizer – it’s well on its way…but the critical component here is the space in between the sun, light, water and food. space. room to grow. ample opprotunity to take it all in – patience really.
i can understand how it would be frustrating to a new gardener growing tuberoses…because you might follow a book or some sort of instruction manual on how to grow them: i’ll bet it would tell you exactlyhow to measure out the fertilizer, how much water daily – plant the bulbs in the PERFECT spot…and honestly – they might not bloom. it sucks – but it’s true.
my tuberoses didn’t bloom this year.
and i didn’t make it to boston.
i’m a better gardener than i am a runner…because i’ve got experience – the kind of experience that comes only from looking down at a disappointing season. like: i pruned my hydrangeas too hard 2 years ago and almost killed them. i put my primroses in too much sunlight last year and burned them to a crisp. i dug up my lilies at the wrong time of year once and it cost me their blooms. meh. it happens. but you know something? they all came back the following year. they were fine. if you take good care of your plants, and you KNOW your plants – you just trust that they’ll come back next year….the older a plant gets – the more established its roots become – the easier it is for that plant to come back.
…and the gardener grows too. the intuition gets stronger. the commitment deepens. the wisdom informs action. the experience informs the wisdom…AND…the work in a garden never changes. you always have to do the work….and you know exactly WHAT work needs to be done and what work can wait. you roll up your sleeves and get down on your knees year after year – but i get more relaxed each year. i revel in the labor. i know what it feels like….and most of all – i love the rhythm of the season. i like the process. alot.
so…back to where i started…i’m really sad about my tuberoses. and i was really sad about boston.
but here’s what i’ll do with my tuberoses…i’ll dig them up. i’ll dust them off. i’ll check their roots – and i know they’ll look good. i’ll clip off their dead leaves. and then i’ll let them rest. i will do nothing with those tuberoses until the spring. they will be in a warm, safe place all winter – they will honestly just rest….and on mother’s day – i will plant them again. i’ll keep an eye on them. i’ll remind myself that i know, intuitively, how to care for them and i’ll trust my gut.
let me tell you – when they do bloom next – they will be spectacular. they really will. if you were to ask me whether or not i know *for sure* if they’ll bloom next year – i’d have to smile…and i’d nod. and i’d say “you go into every gardening season dreaming of the blooms. you plant those bulbs with love and care and attention and you take good care of them all season long – and you hope and dream and believe that they will bloom. because it’s worth it. the blooms are worth it but the process is worth it too. those hours out in the garden, the smell of the dirt, the plants growing out of the ground right before your eyes…it’s all worth it.”
so when a gardener like me finds herself at the tail-end of a disappointing season – i really only smile softly. all my plants will come back next year. and as they rest beneath the crust of a canadian winter – i’ll dream of those blooms, i’ll start to plan and get excited while we all rest…but let me tell you: when the frost breaks – i’ll hit the ground and turn that soil so full of hope and excitement for the season ahead. and i`ll work hard. again. because it`s worth it.
as for those beautiful tuberoses…there is nothing wrong with them. nothing at all. it just wasn’t their year.
“Good people are good because they’ve come to wisdom through failure. We get very little wisdom from success, you know.”
- William Saroyan
Aaron
November 8, 2010