Speaking of moving plants from one house to another, as I did in yesterday’s post, when I first moved to Georgia twenty years ago I found a dianthus called Bath’s Pink. It had been found and propagated by horticulture genius Jane Bath, and I bought a couple of pots of it when I visited her greenhouse.
The patch of it I transplanted to my current front yard seven years ago started out about three feet from the driveway. Then Panther, the only outdoor cat I’ve ever had (all the rest have been strictly indoor) decided that sleeping in the middle of the dianthus was a great way to spend a sunny day.
The middle of the patch pretty much disappeared, and what was left of the plant crept farther away from Panther’s resting place, eventually spreading out onto the driveway. I’m not sure how it happened, but a layer of dirt accumulated underneath the sprigs of dianthus, and the plant took off. It likes growing on top of the concrete apparently. I strung an old garden hose around the area to delineate it, filled in with compost and mulch, and simply drive around it to get into the garage.
While I don’t recommend planting over concrete, if you have a lovely flowering plant that thrives in what you think is a strange place, you might want to let it grow and see what happens.
That's how I ended up with all these wild asters. At least, that's what I think they are. If you know what they are for sure, please let me know. The bees like them. That's what counts for me.
BEEattitude for Day #544:
Blessed are those who keep their hands to themselves when visiting a beehive, for they shall enjoy the music of calm bees.
The teeny details:
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