It goes a little something like this:

First Step: Coffee

Second Step: Couch

Third Step: two sips of coffee

Fourth Step: Go outside with coffee and check on plants

The only two differences between a Hogwarts Transfiguration class and a seed turning into a plant is a wand and time.

In other words, if you can grow a plant from seed, you can perform magic.

Do you know how long it takes for a perennial garden bed to fully flourish? Three years (more if rabbits are cutting everything down).

Do you know how long it takes for a perennial seed to grow into a flowering plant? On average, about two years.

But Trillium takes seven years.

How long does it take for a raspberry shrub to grow fruit? Two years.

What about a serviceberry tree? Three to five years; eight years for peak productivity.

What wouldn’t work is a middle-aged, sweaty gardener in tatty sweatpants, digging thousands of small rocks out of an ugly hedgerow that was previously “mulched” with, of all things, rocks. Every hour or so, she’d curse the absolute genius who thought that innumerable tiny stones were a good idea (the previous owner).

That gardener is me.

And it’s a lot of us.

It’s not cute. But it is real.

This is not the Japanese gardening philosophy of ma—the artful use of negative space—at play. No, no. This is just…blah.

It’s the frustrating reality of starting with young perennials, combined with the tireless efforts of my arch-nemesis: f*cking rabbits, razing wee plants to the ground with their adorably fuzzy chompers.

In photos, strawflower can look a bit unassuming. Sort of mum-adjacent. But look closer - or better yet, see one in person - and you’ll notice the oddity of those paper-like petals. It’s as if cellophane met tissue paper and birthed a flower. Brush the petals with your fingers and you get the most delightful ASMR-worthy crinkle.