About seven or eight years ago, I planted a whole bunch of lupine seeds all over our property. I especially hoped for some to take in the back field and meadow, which really seemed well suited for one of my favorite plants.
The field light moves nicely across the grasses and through the trees. From what I'd read, lupine would like it there. I was excited to see if they would grow.
Every year, in the spring, we'd watch the spots planted. Sometimes the plants would come up but there would be no buds. Sometimes the slugs would get them. And sometimes they didn't appear at all.
But a few years back, the patch in this week's photo started to yield fruit. I don't know why they grew in this particular spot and not others. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for why some showed up and others didn't. I assumed it was my lack of gardening skills. Or maybe these were persnickety plants. Beats me.
Then all of a sudden, this same patch exploded. I was so excited.
We'd take the dogs for a walk in the field just to check on our plants. It was fun to see them popping up, adding colors to the shades of green and yellow wild natural blooms.
Buddee, pronounced as it would seem, was our rather hyperactive golden retriever. He was, in the words of a shipyard worker friend, “nummer than a pounded thumb.” You just never quite knew what Buddee would pull. He was a sweet old pup, but you really had to keep an eye on him.
Buddee ran straight through and then rolled in our most beautiful patch of full-bloom lupine. He absolutely crushed them, and then tried to eat every plant in sight.
This year is the first big bloom since Buddee's assault. It almost looks like they are on alert, anticipating another attack. But they are safe.