Week 14 – Triumph and Disaster: Gardening Perspective from Wimbledon

I enjoy Wimbledon every year tremendously. If there was a single sporting event I could choose to attend, it would be Wimbledon. The tennis is played on perfect grass courts, the players are all attired in white, the crowds wear straw hats, blazers, and floral dresses; flowers are everywhere. Boxes full of white and purple petunias hang from any window, English ivy climbs building facades, and floral arrangements include hydrangea and Lily-of-the-Nile. Strawberries with fresh cream are a favorite concession. As players walk through their entrance to Centre Court, they are greeted by the words of Rudyard Kipling: “If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same.” This was the first year I learned about that quotation after years of watching the tournament. Kipling found an elegant way of saying not to be too moved by a single success or failure. None of us are defined by a single event, for good or bad.

“If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same.”

Rudyard Kipling,  If— (1910)

Note the contrast in these two zinnia plants. One – let’s face it – is dead. It’s not coming back. The other is alive, has lots of flower buds, and has even dropped seeds which have germinated. Zinnia seedlings are growing, true leaves and all, in my July garden in Phoenix.

Neither is overly important. Things happen quickly here. That dead zinnia was thriving recently. Then it succumbed on a sunny day. Will those zinnia seedlings make it? I doubt it! But it gave me a little spark of joy to see life carrying on in difficult conditions. Unlike my zinnias at each end of the spectrum, that joy was not an imposter. It’s the entire reason why I garden.

And while I noted on an off day all the things that needed improvement, my husband pointed out to me that most plants he sees in town are struggling right now and that from his point of view, our courtyard Hygge Garden is doing well.

I tried to keep an open mind and realized I usually go into the courtyard for the purpose of gardening. I don’t enter and exit the house that way, it’s usually through the garage. So I opened the front door and stood in the doorway, just for the purpose of looking. This is what I saw.

I was surprisingly pleased. It’s not so much one plant as that there’s a fair amount of green – and green means life. It looks how I wanted it to originally – like an outdoor room with a wide open blue sky.

I’m going to try to remember this picture whenever I have a particular triumph or disaster in the garden and remember that one of the keys for me to enjoy gardening is simple – perspective.

That Rudyard Kipling was pretty smart (and my husband too!)

Once more unto the breach,
🌿 Ruby