On one scorching hot summer morning, I heard the ratcheting sound of lawn mowers firing up. I hoped the sound was coming from my yard. For days, feather-tufted spikes of Johnson Grass had been waving jubilantly in the wind. I rushed to the door to be sure that my ears were not deceiving me, and when I opened the door, the fragrance of newly mown grass wrapped me in a blanket of memories. The scent transported me back to the empty lot of my childhood and to the softball games the neighborhood boys played there, while we girls wove long clover chains to braid into our hair. I am never quite sure when the guys will come to mow my lawn, and I was certainly glad to see the mowers come that morning.  Even as a child, I realized that while a little bit of grass is great, too much grass buries Home Plate.

Home Plate

When I reference Home Plate, I am speaking both literally and figuratively. If someone had not mowed the empty lot of my childhood, there would be no softball games there–there would be no soft patch of clover in the shade.

My Home Plate — both that in the empty field and that as the essence of my childhood — would not have evolved.

The beauty of my summer haven would have quickly evolved into an impenetrable jungle.

Let’s carry that lesson forward to my gardening efforts now.

While I love the lush growth of my cottage garden, I acknowledge that unless some of that thicket is controlled, I cannot get to all the areas that I need to water. Beyond that, I cannot even see what is growing just beyond a tall stand of poke weeds or goldenrod.

The Importance of Weeding

A few days ago, I needed to photograph some zinnias that were growing near the back of my garden. I am trying to draw and paint a zinnia every day.

Red Zinnia
Jacki Kellum Watercolor
Painted June 21, 2025

I am also teaching how to paint zinnias [as well as other flowers], and I needed to take some photos to make the above poster. Although I hated like heck pulling a few weeds that were in my way, I did so — and behold, I say that my baby mutablis rose had begun blooming.

Mutablis
Image Credit: Heirloom Roses
Prior to 1894
Height: 4′ – 6′ {I have grown Mutablish Roses that climbed above the roof of my house]

“Mutabilis is a beautiful and unusual China Rose with a name meaning literally “liable to change.” The pointed buds open into single, 3” blooms with 5 simple petals that ebb and flow through a series of color changes. Mutabilis begins yellow aging to coppery orange, to rich pink, and ending with fiery red. With various blooms in different stages, expect Mutabilis to show off multiple colors at once. Her delicate, open blooms resemble sweet butterflies giving the garden a whimsical feel. She is an outstanding, continually blooming shrub that is vigorous and blooms early.” Heirloom Roses“

“This most interesting rose was once sold as ‘Tipo Ideale’, and it is ideally suited to illustrate the typical China trait of darkening with age, instead of fading. Nowhere is that trait more visible than in the flowers of ‘Mutabilis’, whose single petals open sulfur yellow, changing through orange to a rich pink and finally crimson. Bright, silky flowers of all these colors will often be on display at the same time, looking as if a group of multi-colored butterflies has settled on the bush. This aspect earned ‘Mutabilis’ its common name–”The Butterfly Rose”. A healthy, well-branched shrub, ‘Mutabilis’ will easily grow to 6 feet, making a fine specimen plant whose showy flowers are accented by the bronze color of the new growth. This is a very popular rose due to its distinct coloration.” Antique Rose Emporium

But let’s return to the thought of weeding and how weeding pertains to my writing. I am a Stream of Consciousness writer. I love the unbridled freedom of soaring on the winds of my imagination, and detest putting on the brakes to edit. But both writing and editing are essential parts of the writing process:

Like this morning, the sun that day was already glaring by 8 a.m., and experience assured me that the heat had just begun to climb. We were in for another blazing day.

While the mowers cut the grass, I went out back to my garden and began pulling weeds. I needed to be doing other things. You see, mornings are precious for me.