I’ve never been an expert gardener.
Most mornings, you’ll find me wandering around the garden with a cup of coffee, pulling a weed here, deadheading a flower there, and noticing things I somehow missed yesterday.
This week alone I almost threw away a petunia that was already growing again.
I discovered lilies that came up where I forgot they were planted.
And I even planted things in spring that are covered by the hosta leaves now.
On cool summer mornings, I like to sit on my back deck and just observe.
Just me, a hot mug of coffee, birds arguing over the feeder and whatever catches my eye first.
I like to see what’s growing, what needs attention and what the wildlife are noticing (and sometimes eating!).
Sometimes I walk around, sometimes I just sit.
I might pull a few weeds I’ve been noticing, but mostly I’m just observing.
Just two weeks ago, the planters on my deck looked great. But then, the petunias began to look bedraggled and messy... half dead. I began the troubleshooting pattern I use when things go wrong in the garden.
It’s always a bit of trial and error in any garden. There isn’t one clear answer for every problem.
I thought maybe I overwatered. So I watered less for a few days. No change.
I thought maybe it needed more sun. So I turned the pot so the petunias would get more. No change.
At this point, I’d already decided they weren’t coming back. I started clipping away the brown leaves. Not because I thought I could save them, but because I wanted to clean up the pot a little before pulling them out altogether.
Then I saw it.
Right in the center.
Tiny green leaves.
The plant had been trying again the whole time, and I almost missed it.
Same thing happened in our mountain home in NH. I planted a bunch of new perennials in spring to fill in some gaps. When I returned a month later, things that were already there before we owned the house began to emerge and get large.
Several little salvia plants disappeared beneath the larger hosta.
The lilies I never knew existed, suddenly announced themselves in a blast of color.
My tiny edelweiss were hanging on beneath a really aggressive patch of day lilies above them.
I found my annuals coming up nicely, but not nearly as much as I had hoped by this point of the summer.
So many new things to see in this one garden!
One morning as I was having my coffee and looking at the mountains, our security cameras were triggered on one corner of the house. Before I could even open it to see what was going on (we often have wildlife walking through the yard that trigger them), the next camera pinged.
I popped up off the couch and looked behind me to find a young bear in my garden beds!
I ran out back to see what he was doing, where I could watch him from a safe spot on the deck. He was wandering over to the shed while I watched. I heard wood splinter before I could even figure out what he was doing!
We shouted out to him and he ran up the crab apple trees to have a snack and left the shed alone.
After he was gone for a while, we went over to check the shed and were very surprised to find he had torn off the side of one corner and revealed a yellow jacket nest in the floor and wall of the shed!
All of these little moments kept leading me to the same realization.
Somewhere between pulling weeds, moving plants around and watching for local wildlife, I realized I wasn’t really learning about gardening.
I was learning to pay attention.
I was learning that things I thought I knew may look different the second time around.
That things aren’t always different because they’ve changed.
Sometimes they’re different because I have.
The same trail looks different in every season or after the rain.
The same book reveals new lessons with each read.
Even my own mind in midlife is offering fresh perspectives on the same old problems.
And people I once thought would always be a part of my life may be moving on.
I wonder if this is the gift of noticing.
Seeing something with fresh eyes gives me new observations, new perspectives, and a different way of meeting the challenges I thought I’d already figured out.
I’ve also noticed that paying attention has changed what my mind looks for.
On the days my thoughts start spiraling toward everything that’s wrong, the habit of noticing interrupts them.
The wind in the trees.
The new flower that just opened up in the garden.
Watching the hummingbirds chase each other around the feeder.
All of it pulls me back into the present, grateful for the quiet life I’m slowly creating.
Maybe the flowers were always there.
Maybe these tiny changes were always happening around me.
Maybe I simply slowed myself down enough to notice.
Maybe I simply arrived at the season of life where I finally know how to see it.
I still only know so much about gardening.
Tomorrow morning I’ll probably wander around with a coffee.
Or maybe in the evening with a glass of wine.
I might pull a few weeds.
Deadhead a few flowers.
And if I’m lucky, I’ll notice something that I missed just yesterday.
I’m beginning to think that‘s where most of life has been hiding all along.
What's something you've noticed lately that you might have missed a year ago? I'd love to hear about it in the comments.
Like you, I tend to notice things more as I’ve gotten older - who would’ve thought I would enjoy watching birds like my mother did? I do! I was at our rental house wandering around the other day and noticed bees diligently working in the sunflowers we planted earlier this year. There’s something magical about watching things grow and seeing (or hearing) God’s creation!
Loved this!!
It is indeed a gift to notice!🤩