Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, April 30, 1995 TAG: 9505020028
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: PATTI LOOP
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
On Saturday, there was work to be done in the garden and in my life. After some mowing and edging, I began weeding out the dandelions and wild onions from the mulch bed. I tried to make the front yard look inviting because it is the most visible to neighbors who pass by our yard when walking to the park down the street. By a strange coincidence, my rusted trowel bent in half and, like a disinterested student, declined to do any more work. That would have stopped me, but there was still much to be done. I began hoeing, all while saving energy to weed around the irises.
After my grandfather died several years ago, I had transplanted some of his irises, but I could never get them to bloom. (If the truth be told, sometimes my grandfather had been contrary , too!)
Last fall I had decided to scatter the plants in different locations so they would have a greater chance to prosper. It was then I had carefully put ashes from our fireplace on the ground above the bulbs in hopes that one of these locations would give the right amount of sunlight and rain to produce beautiful blooms. On Saturday, I saw the first rewarding hint of a bloom about to open. But the dandelions, like ill-mannered children, were crowding out the irises and I just couldn't permit that!
As I hoed around the irises, another strange thing happened, my hoe gave way! That would have been a sure sign to give up (like the temptation to throw in the towel with a difficult child), but the temperature was so pleasant, the breeze so gentle, and I was so intent on freeing the irises that I began using the metal end of the hoe as my trowel to complete my mission.
It was when I was down on my knees that I noticed the color green. My husband and I had commented just the other day about that shade of green that only comes out in the spring. It is so lively!
That shade of green looked so familiar to my mind. Where had I seen that color? Kipps Elementary School! The roof, which had been painted a primer shade of green last year, was like this new green color I was so happy to see.
You'll remember some controversy developed about the color of the roof when the building was completed last year. I was not enamored of it myself, but dismissed the issue when I heard that the children liked the bright shade.
Now, in the garden, all this was coming together in my mind. Yes, the roof was the shade of plants in the spring! Like new leaves, children are so fresh and tender, sometimes bright, sometimes gaudy and shocking, and always worthy of the attention they demand. The roof color had not been a mistake, but it took the passage of these seasons before I could make the connection.
After a day of working in the garden, I can say I have a better appreciation for that brassy, brazen green roof and a new conviction for working with the somewhat disinterested, sometimes ill-mannered, difficult, and often wonderful children. That shade of green reminds me of what's original, awkward, unpleasant, or awesome in all us. Like my grandfather's irises that took so long to bloom, this revelation was worth the wait.
Patti Loop gardens at her home in Blacksburg and also tends to children as a guidance counselor at Eastern Elementary School in Pembroke.
by CNB