I may be a strange person. I get attached to my plants, and I think of them, not as people, of course, but as pets. Some of them are favorites. For example:
Have I bragged enough about my red banana plant? I featured it in my blog posts several times over the summer. Here is a photo I took of it just last week:
Two days after I took that shot, my red banana plant was dying. One morning it looked fine, though surely I would have seen signs if I had looked closely. By that afternoon the central stalk had wilted and fallen over and all the leaves were turning crispy brown. What strange fungus or virus killed it, I don't know. I was heartsick as I amputated the top of the plant. The core was mushy brown. Some sort of rot? I cut the stump to the ground, and at least here all the tissue appeared healthy. I covered the stump with pine straw.
Gardens are ever changing, and experience has taught me not to cling too tightly to the past. But whenever something happens to one of my plants, I grieve a little bit, and right now I am missing those beautiful banana leaves.
I have shifting emotions. There is always hope: perhaps the plant will send out new growth next year. Or I can buy another one if it doesn't. And what if the same thing happens again? Well, that is a problem for another day!
Meanwhile, I have a hoard of plants waiting to be planted as soon as the weather cools in September. I will be working on a new fern glade in the woodland garden, and I have additional plans for parts of the lady garden and front garden. And Lou wants chickens! I have to figure out what to do about that...