Perspective
Perspective is a funny thing. It often eludes us in the throes of a decision when we need it most, seeming to require distance from events in order to work its wisdom. I’ve faced this challenge many times, wishing I could step back from the scene in front of me or hover above my body in order to get the entire view before reacting. I have wished this as a mom, a musician and a gardener. The first of these is obvious, as we are sometimes too close to the children we love to be able to see what will be best for them in the larger picture. That skill comes with experience and even then it’s a work that remains in progress. As a songwriter, I find that I’m often drawn to write about something after I’ve come full circle and have at least some narrow adjustment of understanding to work from. As a gardener, perspective is sometimes still tough to gain.
When I am focused on one plant, that is all I can see. Each damaged bud, each little hole a slug or other garden pest has contributed becomes magnified. In spring, as I wait for my tulips to bloom and hope that my deer repellent strategies have been successful, I often catch myself fixating on the one or two munched upon plants rather than the several others waiting to burst open in colourful jubilation. In moments of weakness I can easily forget to be grateful for what is, while feeling disappointed by what isn’t. I suppose that’s a conscious struggle for many of us in whatever type of garden we inhabit.
Measure twice, cut once. Most things look very different from afar than they do up close. Use a hose or extension cord to define the edges of a proposed garden bed and then stand back and view the frame from a distance to determine if the overall scale is what you intend before cutting into the grass.
