I admit it. My garden languishes this time of year. Most of the blooming plants are pretty much going back to bed for the long winter ahead and smoke has dulled the color of the rest. It looks pretty dismal.
And then I groan as I gather the energy to go out and pull weeds, trim, cut back, and mulch the rest. Sigh. Definitely not like it is at the beginning of spring when everything is fresh, new and colorful. And after the black and white winter, I’m eager to get outside and plant those new growing things.
So, maybe we should listen in.
“I sure wish she’d clean up this mess!” Rosie Bush huffed. “These creepy green arms are crawling all over me!”
“At least they aren’t putting holes in your leaves,” retorted Red Bush who was planted next to her.
“Yeah—well, they aren’t choking you to death,” hollered Peach Rose Bush from a few steps away. She sat a lot closer to the ground than her companions.
“Oh, quit your bellyaching,” drawled the Green Thing crawling along the ground around them. “The water is refreshing, there’s plenty of sun and it feels just right!”
“I’m sure our friends are uncomfortable,” put in the swaying Miss Lavender. “I’m sure I wouldn’t like my stems to be covered with anything but a breeze.” She shuddered.
“Yeah, it’s much nicer to be freeeeeeee,” giggled Columbine, bobbing her yellow heads, for she had several.
“At least you still have your colors,” wheezed poor Peony. Her once beautiful white and fushia colored petals were now just brown crisps at the base of her towering stalks. “She used to clean me up quite nicely after I passed my prime. But now I just sit in my dry petals. Oh, the shame of it!”
“At least you had petals,” exclaimed Rhody. “She doesn’t even know anything about taking care of me. If she’d just do a little pruning—yes, I know it could hurt a bit—but I’d show her a thing or two for it!”
“None of you are stuck with your faces constantly in the dirt like we are,” cried the Hollyhock Family. “We’d look quite lovely if she’d just put a stake or two in the ground and attached us to them. Nobody sees our pretty faces in the dirt.”
“The deer just eat me like salad,” Mr. Hosta lamented.
“Yes, me, too,” Miss Lily sighed.
“Be grateful. You both get to show something first,” said Tulip. “I get shorn off at the base as soon as I poke my tips out of the ground every spring.”
I stand with hands on my hips and gaze at my flower garden, oblivious to their discontent. I can only shake my head, wondering what my poor flowers might say to me if they could.
I’m sure I wouldn’t want to know!
I’m more than glad that God never neglects us. Even through our complaining, He patiently continues His loving care for us.