My Body Count
I don’ know how many I’ve killed. On purpose, by accident, through neglect, through stupidity and incompetence. It must be in the dozens by now. Every year it seems I find a new victim. Someone new could take the old one's place. Every year it's a different plant, and every year it dies.
It started with the Mexican Firebush. I planted it in the back corner of my yard. I don't know if I can still have a picture of it. It was so long ago. My Facebook days. A dark time. I planted it because it looked colorful. It had a neat name, Firebush. And a Mexican plant in Arizona seemed appropriate. It went where a tree was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a tree planted there according to my HOA rules, but a tree got in the way of the pool, so the previous owners removed it, in blatant disregard of suburban norms. But I had to plant something there, it couldn't remain empty, so I planted a Mexican firebush. I watched it die, I watched it wither, I planted something new, it probably died, I planted something new, then I moved away. I wonder what's in the back corner of that lot in Anthem, Arizona. Probably a dead plant.
After the Mexican Fire Bush, it became potted plants. There was a hurricane coming, but I wasn't aware of it. I hadn't been watching the news. I didn't know anything about the prep. I just thought it was getting a little windy out. So I went to the hardware store to pick something up. People were buying cases of water, plastic wrap, things of that nature. I saw they had planters on sale, so I bought some planters. I bought some plants, just some flowers, just ordinary things, some dirt to put them in. And I planted them. They lasted a while. But then, as they always do, they wither and die. I replanted them. The same thing happened again. I left those planters there when I moved. I wonder if they're still there in that rental house. If so, I hope the new tenants have done more with them than I ever could.
And then I came to Georgia. When I bought the house there were two stone planters in front of my door, flower beds in front of the party patio, and there were holes in the ground where plants or trees probably had already been planted but died and been uprooted. I did nothing with the flower beds, at first. I planted some plants in the front, they died. I planted some poinsettias one winter, they lasted but they died, as they are not meant to last in this world. They are only meant for holiday festivities.
This year I planted some bulbs in the planters. One side of them grew, although I think it was just weeds, looked like onions, maybe leeks, perhaps a shallot of some sort.
This year I also bought planters for the flowerbeds. I had tried planting stuff in them before, again going to bulbs, but the soil is so tough. Nothing would grow there but weeds, so I bought planters, I planted flowers, then the storms came and they filled up with water and now it's just mud and weeds and the occasional plant that has survived.
Then there were the tree holes. I used to trip in them all the time when I mowed my lawn. One time I got so mad, I went straight to Lowe's to buy some dirt to fill the holes. Then I saw they had some plants on sale, $9.99, for little shrub things that were supposed to grow to be about six feet tall. So I planted them. I could make a nice little barrier between me and my dirtbag neighbors. They didn't grow. They didn't grow at all. For two years they just sat there, the same size, never really getting rooted, never really becoming part of the landscape. Three of them I tore out last year. The last one survived until just today when I noticed it was half dead. I yanked it out of the ground with my bare hands. So much for a tree, more like a stick piled in dirt. A symbol of my failure, my sad incompetence. My inability to cultivate life.
Despite my failures, when I look at my backyard, I want more. I'd like a fruit tree, a citrus, something I can make a cherry limeade with. I guess a cherry tree and a lime tree. I want to actually watch life grow in my yard, and not have to toss it in a pile behind the party patio every summer. A growing heap of failure and death.