Monday, April 18, 2011

Ode to the hosta

Don't know what I'd do in the bad mansard garden without the mighty hosta. We have multiple types all over the place; I think this one is a Frances Williams variety.

I love them when they are at this stage of growth. Just leafing out and so full of potential. Wanna split them into two new plants? Go for it. Do you think they'd look better in another spot in the yard? Go ahead, dig them up and move them. They won't care.

The hosta starts strong and loses is steam as the summer progresses. By the end of the summer they'll look haggard. The slugs, hail, dogs, kids and sun will reduce them to floppy, yellowing Swiss cheese. And then they'll die down and start the process all over.

Dare I say I find the hosta motivational? Every summer they get stomped, sun scorched and torn apart. And every spring they come back happy and ready to go.

Hosta are a good lesson in life. Every day something will stomp and scorch you a little. Take a rest, refresh and plan a comeback. And be sure there are hosta in your garden.



3 comments:

  1. I love reflections like that, meaning in ordinary things. My hostas are, too, just so lovely right now, unfurling so boldly.

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  2. My hostas got fried last summer in direct sun; I am thinking about moving them into the shade. From what you said, it should be alright to move them this late?

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  3. Bridgett, unfurling is a good word. I wish I would have used it.

    Chris, dig 'em up and move 'em. Now is a perfect time with the weekend forcasted to be a little rainy every day.

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