in praise of zinnias

Is there anything easier on the eye than a patch of zinnias? This is the riot of pinks and orange and reds that I admire each time I step outside my kitchen door. What do I love most about them? How easy they are to love! Right before we went away for the Fourth of July weekend, I noticed how my lemon balm (that I had bought in a single tiny pot as a nice-smelling addition to my herb garden) had exploded and overtaken what was supposed to be a cutting and vegetable garden. It had to go. So I set aside my packing and errands, knelt down in the dirt and yanked up the lemon balm. This was not such a bad job since it smells so good :)

No time to run to the garden store for a pack of annuals, so I rooted around in the junk drawer of my kitchen and found a pack of zinnia seeds. I troweled a couple of rows and tossed in the zinnias. I'm fairly certain I did nothing else. No watering, tending, fertilizing. Nothing. I went away for a week. Came back. Unpacked. Discussed the heat. A few days later, I walked out my back door and there they were, smiling and waving at me. "Remember us?" they seemed to chirp. The zinnias are still going strong. I suppose I'll lose them to the frost. But this reminds me why I don't raise cantankerous flowers like orchids. Not when a tiny seed and a little dirt can sprout and spread so much happiness and color and life.