I like to think of the spreading ground covers as countries with constantly mutating borders; the flowers are the cities.
Up close, we see the sedum and the veronica at the border, fighting for space and supremacy, just like people.
We bought this plant a few years ago and forgot what it was, mostly because it languished in a pot where it didn't get enough light. I moved it to a sunnier spot, where it's now thriving. Sometimes you can't know everyone's name, unfortunately.
"My name is Dante. Don't forget it."
The primrose is in the back, with the scarlet flowers.
"I'm concerned about the state of the world and my future place in it." -- Zephyr "I try to 'live in the moment' and enjoy the flowers, but sometimes I can't help but worry about what's going to come down over the wall next." The azalea and phlox are less concerned, which is why there are benefits to being a plant.
The miniature yew -- with the yellow tipped branches -- is also doing better this year, after being moved at least ten thousand times over the course of its garden career.
The birch tree is solid and reliable. It's the one thing we've never touched, except to trim its branches.
"I will protect this garden from flying snakes." -- Elektra
Suddenly, there is a movement on the wall.
It is not a flying snake, but a stray kitten, who hovers over us like an angel, watching with fear, fascination, and ambivalence.