our day of joy and optimism.

So today is for joy. It turns out - things are really growing. Things I thought for sure I would kill - things I thought I'd neglected or somehow managed badly - are still growing. The hostas I planted in the shade garden last fall? Actually thriving. The hydrangia that I was supposed to maybe cut back last fall but didn't? A mass of new, green growth in the midst of the dead branches. The black-eyed Susans that I bought for their late-summer color and hoped might make it? Are in full leaf and look to be growing well. Ground cover has spread, despite the fact that it might technically be a weed. The shrubs alongside the driveway are starting to bloom. It's enough to make my closet optimist step out boldly into the yard and start planting more stuff. Which we did, all morning. I must confess that I tend to want what I want when I want it (which, let's face it, does seem to be true of the human condition generally). (Mom and Dad: you're right, I admit it. Just this once, under these specific circumstances: I'm not especially patient.) But it turns out that the waiting is sometimes - often, even - actually worth it. New growth is joyful. Things surviving the winter feels like a small miracle and there are just days where a person needs a small miracle or two. So out of optimism I'm planting more shrubs, despite the warnings that it's the year for cicadas and they'll eat all my shrubs. I'm planting, and working in the garden, and getting my hands dirty, because it beats the alternative by a mile.