In its place, we planted a redbud (Cercis canadensis), a tree we are both fond of. I paid for the tree, telling Warren that after I die, I wanted him to have a visible reminder of our love and the home we made together. The tree that came down had a large base, now a mulched bed, so we planted some bright yellow coreopsis nearby to fill it out.
We wanted to add more perennials to the bed, and yesterday we came home with five plants. Two of them are Echibeckia, which I had never seen before and which turn out to be a cross between a coneflower (Echinacea) and Rudbeckia, a native plant family that includes Black-eyed Susans. We also bought three large, feathery purple plants: Agastache Blue Fortune, also known as Mountain Mint, also known as Hyssop. We didn't buy Agastache because it is native (although that it is a huge plus in its favor) or because of its spiky beauty (Agastache is Greek for "many spikes"). We bought it because Warren pointed out at the nursery that the plants were covered in bees. My eyes widened. This was clearly the plant for us.
It was hot yesterday and we parked the plants on the backside of the garage until this morning, when it was cool. (6:30 a.m. we were out there, folks.) Warren dug, I pulled the plants from their tight pots and set them in the holes. We had both the Echibeckias in as well as one of the Blue Fortunes, when Warren stopped shoveling.
|The first bee in the Agastache|
I had turned to pick up the next Blue Fortune, and turned back to look. Indeed. There was a bumble bee, already busying itself on the blossoms. I looked at Warren.
"I have tears in my eyes, just seeing that," I said. "Oh, Warren."
The flowers are in. The bees have already found their way to them.
And life is good.