One Week Later

I took this picture last weekend. My godetias were ready to bloom, sing their song, dance their dance, slam their poetry, etc. Observe:

Yes, they're vibrantly green and all that, but just have a gander at what they look like today:

That's right, they're in bloom. This is a momentous event. It's funny, though, because every year I plant the same thing. Time has proven this the best combination. My early years at the Rivoli were punctuated by very unwise window box choices. The tie for worst of all would be between the nasturtiums (they attracted aphids by the millions) and cosmos (they grew so big and dense that I couldn't see outside). So every year I plant the same thing, yet it's always amazing when they start blooming. I can't explain it, but it's a fine feeling. No, it's not like parenthood; plants don't need socks and educations and emotional support. I guess it's just very nice to see nature work. Yes, I'm not a fan of nature in general (I'm pretty sure that nature is always trying to kill us), but this little subset is really satisfying. Of course, it's always too bad when these plants die in the fall, but for now, I'm very happy to have them. And as with my life right now, it's best not to think about the future.

So I'll spare you the "This Week in Window Boxes" entry and instead feature them in another week. By that time, everything will be in bloom.