I don't think I am obsessive....but perhaps driven. The transformation drew me to keep culling and planting. As weeds were cleared and buds emerged, the work felt more and more worthy. I know some questioned. My son, being 21 could not see the vision I had. He could not understand why I removed all the crushed stone from the walkway....lay down weed barriers, paving stones, and then, began to clean the crushed rock and put it back in the walk. "Why again are you washing the rocks?" he queried ....it is no use to try to answer. He cannot understand the eye for detail I suddenly acquired. The path, now complete, looks great. There are no twigs and errant weeds or leaves. There is no cake of mud.
The satisfaction, I know, will be only be for a season. I will need to be vigilant about that ivy or I am back where I started. I will need to continue to watch over my new Red Maple tree and the many hosta that I planted throughout. Some plants are not taking to the new beds. Some have already shown the signs of being home in my garden. The peonies are budding, as are the asters.
I had no idea that the call to the garden would be for so much delight. Delight and growth. Delight at growth. Seeing the flowers of your labour and knowing that there is harmony and beauty where there was once just plants and weeds.