Strength and Daring

What is more fragile and looks more vulnerable than a little leaf of a pea?

A month ago, in a mild November, I noticed that sweet pea seed sown last Spring had poked forth leaves in the little annual bed. I knew I was in Illinois, where the pea would soon be killed by frost, and I thought about the way the annual bed is changing. Narrow and about ten feet long, with a very short wire fence running down the middle of its length, it had accumulated a couple of mums three years ago that showed themselves very hardy and came up every year until some hungry rabbit pulled one up whole this spring. So it was an annual bed with one perennial.

And then the horned poppy seeds that I got from Nebraska's Fragrant Path showed beautiful shaggy gray-blue leaves but never bloomed. I looked up their description and found that they can choose to be annual, or biennial, or even perennial, depending on how they like their position. The gorgeous foliage is heaped under snow, now, and I guess that quarter of the annual bed has become biennial at least, and maybe they'll be there forever.

Now, altho it's December, it's pretty mild, running around forty in the daytime. And at the other end of the bed from the poppies, the sweet peas are gallantly climbing the little wire fence. Their fragile leaves are shining in the wintry sunshine, their tendrils are poking round for a hold that's not frozen. I've just looked up sweet peas and find that they could be perennial.

If I really intend to have an annual bed, maybe I'll have to plan a new one?