For twenty-two years this was my place in the world.
Then came life as a military spouse.
Until, quite suddenly (in retrospect, that’s how it felt!), after 27 moves in 35 years, and after no sense of true belonging or sense of physical permanence anywhere, that part of my life came to an end when my husband retired in 2015.
Two moves and three years later we’re settled with no immediate plans to move and nothing speaks to me more than planting a perennial garden at the address we now call home. Up until now I’ve always been a container garden person….seldom having two growing seasons in a row to experiment with what worked.
For all of my adult life I’ve moved frequently so my gardening has been done in containers and pots. I’ve seldom witnessed planting perennials in the ground and seeing them emerge from the dirt and flower in subsequent years. I’ve enjoyed the bulbs and seeds that others have planted in the yards of houses I’ve lived in and the bulbs and seeds I’ve planted over the years are hopefully still flowering long after I’ve gone for the pleasure of others but I’ve not had the opportunity to plan and nurture garden beds over a length of time.
For the past several years I’ve not even planted in pots due to a move two summers ago and putting our home on the market last year.
However, this year is different….this year I’m settling into a home that I plan to be in for a while.
This year I got my hands into the dirt and came away with the earth under my fingernails.