The particular perk of petunias
Petunia seeds do this. Tiny capsules bust through dirt and burgeon and bluff their way through storm and wind and excessive sun, to — come summer — bounce their frills in my face each morning as if to say “Nothing will keep us from dancing!“
Petunias are a particularly raucous and showy example of the miracle of plant growth. My nodding onion, for example, is still just nodding, a wisp, as if she forgot the password, dropped the key, lost the map. It happens sometimes. I am sure she will find her way.
And the Penstemon and Hyssop from seed have yet to bloom, but beckon each afternoon with “almost.” The mint is crazy everywhere.
There is no room for boredom in a garden. No room for desperation or hopelessness. We grow flowers because they are fragrant or colorful or show-stopping. And we grow them because it is so, so buoying to be so close to nature so earnest and creative.