I’m piggy-backing a little bit on last week’s post (an encouragement in accepting that plants die and it’s not our fault (most of the time)) to urge our embrace of the frazzled look. It’s another difficult lesson to learn when our favorite plant-y books and magazines are filled, positively BURSTING, with compost-fueled annuals and ten year old perennials that don’t look a day past three.
‘Oh, that clematis?’ the owners will calmly say, gesturing to an armandi clamoring twenty feet above their head, laden with pristine blossoms. Looking smug. ‘I didn’t water it the first year, in fact, I had forgotten all about it and then one day, boom.’
Seriously?
These ‘booms’ aside, I’m here to tell you that it’s actually pretty commonplace for plants to appear a little worn around the edges on the regular. They’re working hard, and unless we have the means to consistently shower them with rich compost, seaweed feed, and mile-high mulch, they often look it.
I mean, when was the last time you exited a seed casing, survived slugs, drought, wind, sudden downpours, blasts of midday heat, and pushed out a flower? It’s a miracle they manage. So I think we should forgive them for a crispy leaf or two (make that a dozen). Once we do, I think we’ll come to realize they’re just as beautiful as any centerfold out there.
Magazines, take note.
…
And to prove my point, one of my own favorite, frazzled plants. A fading bloom possesses a charm all its’ own, and I think a plant’s tenacity to hang in there adds character to a space. Besides, perfection can get boring, yeah?
ps. For some flowering plants, the frazzled bloom can be a more attractive color than when it is young and spry. I find that to quite often be the case with our beloved nasturtiums! ;)