Spring Planting, for real

For at least 10 years I have dreamed of having my own place to call home. Being a gardener person and an out-of-doors kind of person ("my little outdoorsman," as my Nauni calls me), the part of having a home that I have dreamt most about is planting slow growing plants, such as trees, and establishing more permanent gardens with all of my most favorite green beauties. As most of you faithful reader friends know, I bought 20 acres last fall. Holy mackerel! That's some room! All winter (especially when I was in China), the whole thing seemed still an idea and not real. I couldn't imagine myself living there or working there. (As it turns out I am not always much of a visionary.) However, this spring I have started working up there in preliminary efforts to make a home. Today I got up there and planted a stellar collection of trees. I realized that one of the things I like most about gardening (plant husbandry as I like to think of it) is the connections with human loved ones I feel when caring for the plants. A majority of plants I acquire and plant are either given to me by dear ones or otherwise have some association or memory of an experience with a fellow plant lover. As I planted my trees today, I had time remembering and appreciating the people who gave me each tree and marvelling at the good fortune I have to know such great plant people.
The slippery elm was given to me by my former neighbors, Jim and Becky, who had to move to the heat of Texas to care for Jim's mother. The slippery elm is considered by them to be a sacred medicine plant, and I was honored to receive it as a gift. Susie and Todd kept it for me at their place for about a year and we all forgot to water it but it survived, and now it is finally in the ground near the spring. It is gorgeous.
The red buckeye, fringe tree and blueberry bush were a recent gift from Steve, who just left for a cross country birding extravaganza. He is passionate about birds and plants, and left me the aforementioned as a sweet departing gift. Red buckeye makes me think of my Nauni, who has one in her yard; that was the first place I ever saw one, and I fell in love at first sight. Fringe trees make me think of the Dirty Hoe, and how we huff the fringe tree at the "Fs" place when it blooms because it smells like chocolate. All three of Steve's plant gifts now have homes in the ground.
The 5 paw paws I planted came from my buddy Mr. Boone, who I met at the Marshall Depot. The place where he used to live on Dry Branch has the momma and daddy of all paw paws. They fruit like mo-fos and make lots of babies. Mr. Boone was kind enough to let me harvest all the fruit I wanted and dig baby trees to take home. He is a sweet man, and a pretty awesome depot announcer too!
I planted a black birch- don't remember where it came from, but it makes me think of Frank Cook, who taught the herbal mead making class where I made birch bark mead (yum). His plant loving legacy is definitely alive and well.
I have yet to plant the gingko, who has patiently been waiting in a pot for about 10 years. I got it from Robert Eidus. I also have yet to plant the winesap apple I grafted earlier this spring in Bill Whipple's class. He tickled me with his antics and the sparkle in his eye. He sure does love those fruit trees. I got the scion wood from my dear neighbors the Mechos.
Last but not least, I planted a litle campanula flower near the slippery elm. It was given to me last year by Rachel Brownlee (the Girl in an Apron) from her garden. It got washed out by the dreadful hailstorm of 9-09-09, but then it made a comeback in its meager little terracotta pot. I am tickled to have a little something from Rachel's sweet Beaverdam homestead at my place.
It was pretty fun planting trees at my own place. I took my time and gave each one my attention, stopping to rest in the shade and drink tea. I carried sweet cool water from the spring and stepped back to admire each plant. For the first time I could imagine living and working up there, making gardens and watching the trees grow.