A day came when I desired to return to the yard and plant a flower garden. I had wanted to see the magnificence of Dahlia’s bloom. I thought it would inspire me so much. The world had been dark for so long after some tragedies had inflicted great emotional pain upon me. The sun finally started to shine through the gray clouds. The sky turned blue.
I went to several local garden stores, but they had no Dahlias. The county ag-extension phone handler was so kind to tolerate my enthusiasm for a gardening adventure that might turn out in ruin. You see, dahlias are temperamental and do not do well in Memphis. But that knowledge did not deter me one bit. I was more interested in proving everyone wrong. I grew big, spectacular Dahlias in Cincinnati. The flower represents dignity, elegance, forever thine and instability. It is strange how something or someone could be forever thine and unstable, but isn’t that the challenge of life? Is someone to continue on a path of commitment regardless of the rough spots and potholes? Absolutely.
I could not find the flowers that I wanted. I went to the internet and searched for the vendor who had a complete inventory of tubers. I found a nursery located in Columbus, Ohio and purchased one hundred tubers for a fraction of the retail cost. In three days the package arrived. I quickly opened it. I found each tuber individually wrapped and ready for planting. Beaming with exuberance, I searched for my shovel and hoe. I saw them hanging up in the tool shed in my back yard. As I surveyed the front and back yards for the best possible site, I eyed an area located in the side yard that I thought would give the plants the best chance of survival. Dahlias enjoy sandy soil and bright sunlight. They require a proper watering every week or so. They bloom towards the middle of summer. They must be planted after the frost-free date which is April fifteenth in Memphis. And a bonus: I can remove them following the first frost in the fall and begin the journey all over again next year with those that survived the summer: life eternal for the Dahlia.
I dug lots of holes. As I dug, I found that there were hundreds of small creatures within the soil; Earthworms everywhere. The ground had a funny texture, so I added a little peat and sand to each hole. I mixed a bit of lime into the soil to increase its pH. I planted the tubers and staked them at the same time. I did not want to damage the roots which could happen if I staked them later.
Water was the final ingredient added to the mix. I used warm water as not to disturb the tubers too much. I thought they would not enjoy a cold shower after being placed in the cool dirt. The trauma of being removed from their original peaceful garden space, shipped to a foreign land and then given the duty to germinate somewhere unknown was severe enough.
I watered the garden each day. Tending and weeding the area wasn’t difficult, just time-consuming. As some of the sprouts broke through the surface, I placed more soil over them to enhance their strength. Much to my dismay only a little more than half of the tubers sprouted. I didn’t know why the germination rate was mediocre, but I was sure there was a reason.
I fertilized the remaining plants. I used bloom food. Bloom food was specially formulated to encourage the large, beautiful flowers. Despite my efforts, I noticed that some of the remaining plants began to wither and fade. One morning, I saw a slug destroying one of the moderately sized plantlings. I pulled the slug from the plant, but over the next few days, it too withered and died.
As I sought out master gardeners, garden books and other sources of information, I soon came to realize that there are so many factors involved in successfully growing Dahlias. I also realized that the majority of these mysterious forces were really beyond anyone’s control. In my ignorance, I believed that planting, fertilizing and watering was more than enough. I created the perfect growing environment: proper pH, moister and sun. The intangibles were so much more important than I had anticipated: the secrets of Mother Nature remained hidden.
The days passed quickly but also slowly. Sometime in mid-June, the first full bloom appeared. The color was a brilliant crimson. It was a fantastic bloom attracting bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. Then another bloomed, and another and another. Soon all of the remaining plants had giant red flowers inviting all of the neighborhood insects to land and share in their beauty. I deadheaded any bloom that began to fade, for it was the humane thing to do. I wanted to see more new growth and brilliance. I made sure there were no predators such as deer or rabbits to destroy these beautiful flowers. Standing guard was both noble and necessary. I still lost a few plants to those persistent hungry flower-killing creatures.
As the season came to a close, the flowers faded. I had watched them grow from sprouts to big blooms, only to see them disappear in the fresh fall air. Only ten plants flowered, despite all of my efforts to help them all blossom. I was the only one who enjoyed their beauty. I invited three close friends to see the flowers in bloom, but no one could make it to enjoy my side yard. It seemed as if they had other things to do which were more important to them. I suspect none of them have ever seen brilliant crimson Dahlias — their loss.
I waited patiently for the first frost so I could dig up and prepare the ten tubers for another season of adventure. I was sure they would grow again since they survived the initial planting. But then again, I began to wonder about their ability to survive. Would another planting be 100% successful or would it all be just for one bloom (ten percent of the ten)? I was willing to take the risk and plant the old ones as well as some new ones: a mixture of red youth and crimson veterans. I would wait until the last frost had passed. Then the great planting adventure would begin again.
I remember looking at these flowers every day once they had bloomed. I watched them grow up from ugly sprouts to beautiful blossoms. As they wilted, their luster left as did the insects and hummingbirds. Even though I tried many folklore ideas to delay their demise, nothing seemed to work. Once the flower faded, their spirit was all used up, and it seemed to leave for someplace else.
The simplest flower follows the same universal cosmic laws pertinent to all of us. There are millions of women worldwide giving birth to babies every day. It’s as if the seeds of humanity are thrown to the wind to germinate in almost every kind of economic, spiritual, environmental, familial and health challenge possible. All of these babies are born with the best intentions possible. All of us want only the best for them. All societies want them to grow up to be good, hardworking people who service and provide for themselves and others. These children have the potential to grow up and learn from the richness of relationships in their family garden. But many unkind mysterious forces can distract, detract and dismantle every good intention. There are so many unseen forces that can alter the fate of every child, making it difficult for them to bloom in a loving, caring and harmonious way.
Man creates forces of tyranny through dishonesty, fear, hate, and greed; these forces do not exist in nature. Holy also only lives in Man. The birth rate of humans far exceeds the capacity of humanity to provide a loving, nurturing and caring environment in which everyone should have the opportunity to grow. It is incredible to see people blossom despite all of the pervasive negative forces of humankind emerging in their neighborhoods, cities, states, nation and even on a global scale. Seeds of Love fall from Heaven and land in every environment known to human existence. It only takes one person to emerge as that beacon of light, that crimson Dahlia that attracts and encourages others to be another crimson Dahlia. Many of these Light bringers are ignored, ridiculed or ostracized, but no one can dim their Light. The Collective of Humanity desires that these red Dahlias emerge and bring peace to those people who have been swayed to do evil by the power of greed, the power of fear or the power of dishonesty.
As I go back to the garden in the dead of winter, I think about the first flower to emerge in the upcoming spring. It is always a risk to be the first to bloom, for the first flower gets all the attention. But, the first bloom is hardly ever the last; it is just the first. Every precaution can be taken to ensure that Love, Promise, and Harmony are received and amplified, but unforeseen forces can create turbulence that gives way to unhappiness, jealousy, victimization, bitterness, insecurity, and death. I have seen these dark forces in humanity’s patch, despite malevolence being everywhere some of the anointed Red Dahlias survive and prosper. The ones that parish young are never given a chance to lead a life of good or evil; they never get the chance to bloom at all. To flower is the ultimate honor.
Mystery lives in both my and humanity’s garden. Red Dahlias are challenging to raise, so is rearing a loving adult. In Nature, flowers have the same chance of surviving and thriving as humankind. Humanity might reward people for being dishonest, untrustworthy and greedy, especially if they are fertilized continuously by the tyranny of society and the self-centered corruption of politics and religion. Individuals seldom get the chance to bloom in a kind, caring and loving way since impoverishment and ignorance are epidemics. To blossom in Absolute Love under man’s rule is the ultimate honor, but those who wither and struggle due to dark forces separate from the Light of the Divine. Most often, they can never enjoy True Love in any form. Those that have the opportunity to blossom will shine brightly and consistently. Look around, you can see them so clearly. The same holds Ture for my Dahlia garden. Dahlias shine consistently bright even if only a few survive the transition from germination to adulthood.
This year, the White Easter Lilly will make an excellent companion for the Red Dahlia.
Kevin S. “Kiki” Merigian © February 22, 2010