Morning Patrol
A time to reflect on the changes in my garden, and in my life.
After I retired in 2022 and became interested in the garden, I was surprised to realize that if I wanted to see what was going on in my backyard, I had to leave the comfort of my kitchen, go down the steps to the patio, and then walk around to the various beds in the back of the house.
As I became more interested in the garden and more involved in the maintenance and care of the plants, I realized there was a lot going on back there. When I started to pay attention, I could see that there were subtle, and not so subtle, changes happening every day. Some changes to the garden demanded my immediate attention and some were put on my “to do” list for future action, while other changes didn’t demand any action at all but were so beautiful, stunning, stirring, curious, disappointing, soul crushing, or other, that I didn’t want to miss them. A plant would throw off a bud overnight with the promise of more to come, or weeds would appear that demanded I pull them because they were bugging me. I would spot new holes in the ground where moles were making mincemeat of my neatly tended and newly mulched bed. I would see plant leaves that had looked healthy the day before, suddenly beginning to brown and curl making me wonder what new problem was about to overtake my next plant victim. There were endless leaves, twigs, and branches falling from the trees around the yard, demanding my attention if I didn’t want the garden to be completely buried by them on a weekly basis.
On this morning’s walk I notice that the white astilbe I had transplanted across from my dogwood tree are still hanging in there, with little leaves that seem determined to make a run at surviving the winter. All four of my new deadnettle plants, or lamium, that I bought on a whim while browsing a new nursery for flowering shade plants, seem to be thriving in their new home under our crepe myrtle tree. It appears the two autumn joy sedum that I bought on sale for $5 each at the local Home Depot are getting enough sun in the fire pit bed. If I squint hard enough, I can see that their flowers are beginning to turn a light shade of pink. I’m not sure how much darker the blooms will get as we head towards fall, but I’m anxious to find out. When I go on my garden walk tomorrow morning, this list will be completely different, probably having something to do with the many weeds that need to be pulled from between the patio pavers.
Early each morning I go outside to hang out with the plants in the garden for a little while. It has become an indispensable part of my morning routine. I call it “morning patrol,” a time where I can reflect not only on my garden, but the many changes going on in my life. I’ve come to realize that for me, success isn’t measured by the assets on my balance sheet, a philosophy I had lived by since I was a teenager, but by whether I consider myself to be happy, or at least, happier. Since I sold my business and retired, and perhaps because I spent more than three decades as a financial advisor and money manager, I have some confidence that the family balance sheet is in good shape. But I’ve also come to understand that being happy is a challenge that I never really took the time to consider in my Type A rush to succeed, as measured in dollars and cents. Morning patrol is a time not only to consider what needs to be done in the landscape of my garden, but it is a private time to consider the wonders of the landscape of my life. Sometimes I lose focus on the flowers as I walk the paths of the garden, and find myself thinking about my past, my marriage, my children, my health, my friends, and others less fortunate than me and what I might do to help them. On morning patrol, it’s very easy to completely lose track of time.
If you are still deep in “busyness mode” where your mind is spinning at a thousand turns per millisecond planning to conquer your next challenge, it is hard to imagine any joy at the thought of slowing down. For years I didn’t have time to imagine anything other than crushing the next business cycle and beating our investment benchmarks. I’m sure that you have your own different and overwhelmingly important work goals to meet if you are to succeed. If you are a fellow Type A who is either contemplating retirement or is already retired, and you think gardening is an activity that is too slow for you, you might want to think again.
I would like to invite you to join me for morning patrol if you’re willing to take a walk for a few minutes before you start the rest of your day. I’m in the mood to tell a few stories, and as you’ll see, each bed has its own tale to spin. If we are walking together in the spring, you might be surprised at the hectic pace of change out here in the garden. On the other hand, if we walk in the fall we might just move our patrol time to later in the day. It’s getting cold out there early in the morning and I don’t feel like donning three layers of clothing to say hi to my plants. Besides, there isn’t much going on out there in the month of November, at least compared to the action of April and May. But today looks like it’s going to be a hot day, so let’s get going before the heat comes up. At the moment it’s a cool seventy degrees and the sun is just coming up over the trees in the backyard. There’s still some dew on the ground so wear some shoes that can stand to get a little wet. Grab a cup of coffee if you’d like, and let’s go see what has happened overnight in the garden.
Stay tuned for Type A’s next post, where we start our tour of the garden at the far corner of the house, in a bed called the back bed. Like many of the beds backing up to the house, it isn’t a huge bed, but there are some good plant stories to be had. See you there.