Weeds happen

Moving our precious young plants out of the greenhouse early this morning, I had a thought. A few, actually.

Weeds happen. A weed in one place is a flower in another.

Some of the best things in this patch started out as something somebody else was ready to throw away. Trees and shrubs meant for the trash pile, grown on and flourishing. It is worth remembering when you look at your own beds and see everything that has gone wrong instead of everything that has gone right.

Growing is more about intention than the color of your thumb.