Annual or Perennial?

My love for all things green didn't evolve until fairly late in life. When I was young, I typically felt disconnected with nature and regarded the pastime of gardening as boring and somewhat beneath me. "Who'd want to lug home soil and bark, push around a shovel, or commune with earthworms on their days off?" I scoffed. Over time, as I've grown in wisdom and patience, I found myself becoming an enthusiastic gardener, though not a capable one... not yet!

I used to think having a green thumb was a gift you're blessed with, not an acquired skill. It was sort of a mystery to me how some people managed to keep their gardens looking good year-round when others couldn't stop brown patches from forming on their lawns. I constantly marveled at my mom's talent to nurture her orchids from tiny pots to glorious showpieces. But lately, as I continued to work and ruminate in my backyard, I slowly realized that skills can be learned, and that there are more than a few parallels between the ability to make plants thrive and that required for keeping human relationships healthy.

It basically involves being sensitive and paying close attention, taking good care of your own, and once your turf is established, making adjustments as needed in way of care and maintenance. Once upon a time, if a plant seemed to be struggling on my watch, my first thought would be, "Uh oh, another dying plant! I still don't know what I'm doing. I wonder if I still have the receipt or it's too late for a return." As hare-brained as it sounds, it just didn't occur to me to try plant food as CPR or vary my watering schedule according to the weather or season. Yellowing leaves did nothing to alert me to the possibility that I might be errant in my approach. As a result, over the years my patio has turned into a showcase for floppy succulents with rotted roots and depressed hibiscus whose buds stubbornly refused to open.

Some plants are shade-loving; others are full-sun varieties that require 6+ hours of direct light each day. One might be ideal for rock gardens whereas another would be better suited in a patio planter... just like your date who's more comfortable in jeans versus another who prefers dressing up. Each plant is similar to a person with their individual needs and wants. You've got to give the one you love the right amount of sunshine for them to thrive... sort of like perfecting the art of staying a few paces behind a partner who mostly enjoys the spotlight on them... or stepping up in order to give cover for one who needs the security of protective shade.

A few plants demand constant watering; others need it only once every so often. You might think it couldn't hurt to set the sprinkler dial on shower everyday, but overwatering will just make your plant feel soaked! In the same way, not paying enough attention to your partner can certainly ruin a relationship, but smothering them with attention could possibly result in your darling feeling trapped and unhappy. It's a delicate dance for many couples, one that requires continued adjustments and negotiations during the different stages of life. And let's not forget the very important concept of spacing... when flowers are planted too close to each other, they often fail to bloom… not unlike the "three's a crowd" scenario in romantic relationships.

Whenever my mom and I shop at our local garden centers, we would often peruse the same section of the nursery and pick out completely different specimens. I invariably zoom in on those with fully-formed blossoms and the most vibrant colors. My mom prefers one with a few open blooms (just enough to give assurance that her plant is healthy), but plenty of buds. When our choices are taken home and planted side by side, mine definitely looks more showy and beautiful... for a little while... before all the petals start to fade and brown at the same time, then my plant would look so sorry next to Mom's, which promises new blooms week after week. My problem is that I still can't resist the thrill of instant satisfaction that often vanishes just as quickly.

Verbena 'Imagination' in my garden

Purple royal trumpet vine

Lantana interspersed with bougainvillea blossoms fallen on the ground

A little over a year ago, my cousin T. and I bought almost identical new homes from the same builder, in the same neighborhood. Since then we've regularly compared notes on our evolving greenscape and mutually kept tabs on each other's plant purchases. T. happens to be like my mom; she considers it her hobby to nurture clearance-aisle bargains into full-fledged beauties. Her husband is more like me... he'd rather pay more for a beautiful, mature plant than its younger counterpart with potential. T told me that after they moved in, her hubby made one single request for their new-home purchases she couldn't refuse – a full-grown tree up to his standards to provide instant shade in their yard. My cousin-in-law hated the idea of getting a smaller tree, because according to him, "By the time you get to enjoy its benefits, it might be time to upgrade or downgrade to another home!"

T. finally gave in and bought a rather expensive, tall and handsome specimen to please her husband – one from our association's approved plant list. Unfortunately, her prized pepper tree died of shock within a few weeks after its transplant. There are no guarantees in life!

In a similar metaphor with regard to human relationships, sometimes you manage to do most everything right, or believe in your heart you did... or at the least, you know you've tried your best! You water your plant regularly, talk to it lovingly almost every day, and carefully position it to obtain the right amount of sunshine. But your plant doesn't want to stay with you past one season. You meant to choose and keep a perennial, but it just so happened that your plant was annual. It's not your fault! Life isn't fair! :( But always remember, you yourself can be someone else's perennial, and bloom where you're planted!