if I would be a gardener paragraph writting
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If I were a garden, I know I'd be loved. I would definitely be an individual, like no other. I would be a flighty thing, changing with the seasons, the weather, the whims of the gardener who loved me. Here are some things I would wish for.
Quiet company: If my gardener planted fewer labor-intensive plants and more that fit their spots -- ones that don't need pruning to stay the right height, that don't need spraying to resist disease, that don't need deadheading or staking -- maybe that gardener would have more time to sit and enjoy the warmth of the summer sun with me.
Cherished trees: The extreme drought of the season just past was a deadly danger to my trees, my greatest grandeur. I would hope it reminded gardeners not to take those trees for granted, to appreciate them and remember their needs and tend them as carefully as tea roses, watching them carefully for signs that this year's dearth of rain has done them damage in the years to come.
Buzz and bustle: Without the essential puttering of bees and other pollinators, my vegetables and flowers could not produce fruit or seed. Without the diligence of beneficial insects such as the wasps that kill cucumber beetles, I would be less safe. Without the flutter and delicate touch of butterflies, my beauty would be less bright. Without the bustle of birds and small furry creatures, what kind of home would I be? I only could hope for a gardener who avoids insecticides, leaves a little brush pile here and there to provide shelter and nest-building material, keeps the birdbath filled with clean water and enjoys my wild companions.
Blooms all year: I love my flowers as much as anybody. I also know that a steady supply of nectar keeps beneficial insects coming back to battle bad bugs and spread pollen around. So though I know it's one of the most challenging things to do, I wish for a gardener who learns to plan for blooms somewhere from early spring to late fall, from snowdrops to toad lilies, annuals and perennials, vines and pots, beds and hanging baskets, a kaleidoscope of shifting color and emphasis that keeps both humans and insects in a state of delight.
Love of leaves: As much as I cherish my flowers, I know there are places where too much shade doesn't give plants enough energy to flower. So I would wish for a gardener who learns to love the shapes and textures, silvers, greens, whites and golds, broad leaves or delicate lace of foliage, so that even my darkest places are part of the garden.
Less stress: As my gardener turned to me for a respite from the stresses of modern life, I would wish for a respite from some of the stresses of modern gardening. Overdoses of fertilizer push my plants too hard and pollute my water supply. Too-short, too-frequent mowing keeps my grass from having enough leaf area to collect the sun it needs and leaves it vulnerable to invading weeds. Weed killers attack my best plants as well as my worst ones. Instead, I would hope for the kind of gentle help nature offers: a supply of rich compost, a covering of decomposing plant material over my roots and a soil that is encouraged to nurture the earthworms, soil microorganisms and beneficial fungi my plants have evolved to live with.
The wonder of children: No matter how small, I could spare a plot or a pot for children to learn the astonishing truth about plants: How they start from nothing, or something brown and ugly, and turn into something edible, beautiful or just green and big. A few radish seeds in a pot, an amaryllis indoors in January, a hiding place among tall sunflowers in late August: any of these can fascinate a child.