My curly willow tree bit the dust.
I am always so supportive to other gardeners when they lose plants. I tell them that a dead plant is an opportunity to dig it out and try something new.
When I lose a plant, I can’t ever be that philosophical. I’m always upset. The time taken planting and getting it established. All that love and nurturing and watering.
My husband said, “Don’t tell your readers you lost a plant!” But really I should tell you that. In gardening you win and you lose. Gardening is all about the dreaming, planning, expectations, loving, watering, feeding, hoping and then sometimes things don’t go as you expected.
I knew when I planted a willow they are notorious for being sickly, and catching every disease that comes by. But I fell in love with a willow I saw in another person’s garden. Their willow tree reminded me of an exotic Caribbean man with long curly branches like dreadlocks. I was sucked in by the exotic charm of it. I had to have one. Unfortunately, mine never flourished like the one I saw in another garden. It mostly limped along, sometimes being nursed through diseases, only to rally again and show a little promise.
You would think I would be glad to be done with it all. But I think I mourn not for what it was but what I dreamed it could have been. At some point soon, I will get excited about what to put in its place. But for right now, I am sad that I have to get out my saw.