I took a walk around my property yesterday. It's been unusually hot for this time of year, and after a wet Spring, everything is lush and green, much blooming early.

I made a garden bed a few years back, from soil my husband dug up elsewhere, and left for me in a mound, to add to the vegetable garden. However, when I looked at the quality of the dirt, and all its "inclusions," I decided not to use it for the vegetables. We live on what was once a farm, in a house restored by my husband. That's another story in itself! But much of the property along the tree line, where my garden is, is filled with remnants of things discarded by the former owners. This seems to have been common practice, as trash hauling wasn't practiced when the farm existed. People just created a dumpsite, and threw away old bottles, broken dishes, old shoes...I've even found what I believe is the doorbell cover from the original structure.

So, with a lot of broken glass, pieces of iron, and other flotsam, I didn't want to add that to my tomatoes, etc.

The mound sat there a while, and I decided to have my husband level it off a bit. Then I would plant it with flowers. I don't have a lot of sunny space to plant them here, as much of the property is wooded.

I tried a number of different flowers. The first year, not much germinated. An elderberry decided to plant itself there, and I was grateful to have at least something take hold. But much of what I seeded didn't seem to care for the spot.

Until the Foxglove. I grabbed a bunch of seed from a few straggling plants which survived in another spot, where they seemed to be struggling with too much shade. This year seems to have been ideal for them. They are now taking over that mound, and anything else that manages to survive is being overrun with their stately bells. I can't get over their strength and beauty. I don't have the heart - at least not yet - to thin them out.

Sometimes the unexpected can delight. Other times, it's a lot to deal with.

Yesterday, I walked out to that garden with my man. He needed a little sun and to be more mobile after having his appendix removed late last week, in the middle of the night. We sat on a bench by the little pond he created from the depression left by a fallen tree, next to the foxglove garden, as I'm going to refer to it from now on. It used to be "the new bed," but now since their takeover, well...they win.

One unexpected thing next to another. One frightening and stressful, one beautiful and exhilarating.

He's outside right now: I asked him if he wanted me to walk with him, and he said he wanted to try by himself. I think he wants to prove he can do it himself. But I'll bet he's sitting next to and admiring those foxglove.