Plants come and go in our gardens. They might thrive for many years: giving us much joy, treating the ecosystem around them with their gifts of nectar, pollen and foliage. We treasure their gifts and their place in our gardens.
Then something happens. It might be a change in their conditions, an accident (or critter) might injure them … or they just finish their lifespan and don’t return come spring.
We miss them and stare solemnly at the place they used to occupy, a hole in the garden.
Though diminished somewhat by the loss of the original, the joy echoes back to us in the vibrant blooms of what we saved, evoking memories.
This year I lost a beautiful one but the echoes of her are in my garden still and I treasure those echoes, all the more special in the memory of the one lost.