That spring I went wild at the nursery, spending truckloads of money on flowers - sweet williams, johnny jump-ups, candytuft and fragrant phlox. I was amazed at new breeds and colors I had never seen before, all because I had never bothered to look in the perennial section. I realized there might be a lot of things just waiting to be discovered, if I opened my eyes and looked.
The first spring John and I worked in the yard together tested the limits of our relationship. I discovered what true love was when I tried to build a planter box with the help of the finickiest man on the planet - a man who not only reads all the directions before starting a project, but who goes to the hardware store and buys all the recommended tools. I’m a woman who is content to pound nails into the wall with my shoe.
Summer arrived with our love intact and plenty of perennials planted everywhere. We made it through three more springs before completing the landscape of our front yard, and then we decided to make our relationship legal. We figured if our love could survive the planting of a two-hundred-square-foot lawn and the construction of a granite patio, it could survive anything.
We were married three years ago - in the spring, naturally - and have experienced both the joy and frustration that come with a marriage license. My love affair with flowers is a tender one. But the difference between flowers and people is that people can choose to be annuals or perennials. Sometimes when I am working in the garden, I look across at John, and I have no doubt that the two of us will keep growing together, year after year. We are perennials.
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