The Mad Planter

When we once enjoyed hours and hours of shade on our corner retreat. 

In the Midwest we ease into conversations with complete strangers by saying, 

"Get any roof damage the other night?"

"I've never seen heat like this. The flowers shrivel up before noon." 

"In all my 80+ years I ain't ever seen ice and bitter cold stick around this long."

"How many bushes and trees did you lose to the ice storm two years ago?"

Weather runs our lives in the plains. It can make or break us. Ask any golfer and she can tell you what winter kill looks like, what Poana (an unwelcome bluegrass in Bermuda)  does on the greens, about the gaps in the woods when a tree falls from the rains and the storms.  Weather shows its power in one way or another every year. 

As for me, I sigh, mumble and grumble and stand in my backyard with hands on
my hips asking Mother Nature for help and inspiration. In the last three years of severe winter weather and baking heat, we have lost all of our Photinia bushes, some that were gloriously tall and thick. 

These old Photinia where higher than our fence and kept the morning sun off of us as we rocked in the swing. This spring we hired a crew to cut and dig out the last of the row of our Photinias. Once they disappeared an ugly sore took their place---the faded tan electrical box!

No matter where I stood in the house or in the yard, the ugly brown box appeared. How dare nature treat me like this?  We lived with the eye sore for several months before I conjured up my best idea yet. On second thought, not my best idea but it worked!  

First, Jack transplanted one of freebie Crepe Myrtles in our backyard to an angle that in a few years will hide the brown box from the kitchen view. Next, he extended the stone work in the far corner where the swing sits, making it look quite cottage like. After seeing great success and new beauty with our row of Yews on the back row fence, we bought one more Yew and planted it between the swing and the brown box. 

Still, the brown box remained visible to me from every angle and my patience had run out.  I then moved two potted plants on stands to block the view, but the dog had other plans for running around the fence. I moved them away from Murphy's running path, but still left the potted plants close enough to give some beauty to the area. 

Despite our hard work, the brown box remained visible to me. As a last resort and with no patience left to wait for the plants to grow in, I planted Morning Glory seeds "all around the brown box."  Jack watched me that morning and said, "Do you really need two packages of seeds to cover that small box, and what will you do about a trellis?"

I growled. "I'll worry about that if they grow. Nature hid that brown box for nine years with the Photinias and I happen to think nature could use a little help from me." He grinned. I didn't. 

Two weeks later the Morning Glories began to grow and swirl in space. They needed a fence or trellis. I concocted a fence around the brown box and in two more weeks, they grew all over the fence. With Jack observing, but not really helping, I found string and ran it from the small fence around the brown box to the tall yard fence between neighbors.  I smiled. 

 

At last, the brown box disappeared. Such joy I experienced in hiding that ugly box, until we switched to OEC underground internet service this month. One day the man showed up and painted our yard with yellow and red lines showing OEC where not to dig. All lines led to that brown box! I guessed that I would lose one side or the other of my twisted spiraling vines. 

Luckily, good things happen sometimes and the ground crew couldn't dig near the box because the old Photinia roots prevented them. Hah! They worked around the box completely and didn't disrupt my Morning Glory waterfall.  

Hopefully, in the next few weeks the Morning Glories will be in full bloom, and the green waterfall I planted connecting to the fence will radiate with color. No one will ever know what is hidden beneath that will jungle of green leaves, and blue blossoms.   

Murphy's running path now had more shade. The large dark green leaves on the fence growing up from the bottom are Luffa plants. Before long large yellow flowers will bloom every morning and by October, we will harvest luffas for fun.