Hello, fellow lovers of all things green.
Many will cherish memories of how they celebrated the 250th birthday of the United States of America. Well, I have a special story to share.
I had plans for the Fourth of July that changed unexpectedly. Last week, I mentioned my friend Cristina’s journey to becoming an American citizen. A celebration was planned with friends, and I very much wanted to attend. But when I realized it was a two-hour drive each way, I wasn’t comfortable leaving Jolee for that long, especially with my wonderful neighbors away for the holiday.
And so I found myself with a gift—an unexpected day. No appointments. No obligations. Just me, Jolee, and an unfinished project that had been nagging at me for years.
A flag.
More specifically, a flagpole.
The Flag Waiting in the House
What seemed like a simple project quickly became a puzzle involving weathered rope, mystery knots, and old repairs.
I’ve had a new flag waiting in the house for a few years. Not because I didn’t want to fly it. Quite the opposite. The problem was the flagpole. Or more specifically, the plan for the flagpole.
“We need to paint it first.”
But it never got done.
We had passed the faded, worn flag along to our local Boy Scout troop, which conducts honorable flag retirement ceremonies. Since then, the empty pole has bothered me.
With no plans other than gardening, I figured the weathered white paint was fine. Why should a flag have to wait for perfection? So, on the Fourth of July, now just Jolee and me, I decided it was time to fly the flag.
Seems simple, right?
Mystery Knots and Rope Geometry
What should have taken fifteen minutes turned into a puzzle involving a mystery knot, an odd old clip I couldn’t figure out, and weathered rope that reminded me of years ago when I was a floundering deckhand on a sailboat.
At one point, I found myself standing among the Joe-Pye Weed, already chest-high beneath Old Glory, studying the existing knot. I concluded it was likely a repair from years ago.
Somewhere between untangling the rope and repositioning the new clips that secured the flag, I started laughing. Then I began singing God Bless America. I mean, I belted it out like I once did at the Footbridge Park Fourth of July opening ceremony years ago.
There I was in the yard—well, not alone. I had my faithful four paws by my side—singing to a flagpole as I hoisted the flag.
The first try, it became pinned to the pole behind the rope. Maybe the clips were too close together, creating a gap. Maybe there wasn’t enough wind.
Down she came. I adjusted the clips and tried again. And again. And again. Eventually, the flag flew. Not perfectly. Not quite all the way to the top. The old knot stopped it a foot or two short.
An old knot stopped the flag a foot or two short of the top—and inspired an unexpected lesson.
The Lesson in the Knot
I wanted to keep going. Surely there was a way to replace the rope or rework the knot and raise the flag those last few inches. But instead, I stepped back and watched.
The flag, flying against a brilliant blue sky, began to wave in the gentle breeze. And I realized how often we postpone things while waiting for perfect conditions, when there are no more knots.
We do it in the garden. We wait for perfect weather, the perfect plan, and the perfect timing before planting or pruning. Sometimes that’s warranted. But perfection rarely comes.
We do it in life, too. We tell ourselves we’ll start after one more thing, after circumstances improve. After we feel more confident. After we solve whatever knot is standing in our way.
Yet nature doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. Trees leafed out, and perennials emerged despite our overly dry or chilly spring. My dear friend and design colleague Marty Carson’s Dove Tree was still beautiful even though it didn’t flower at her celebration of life this year.
Plants grow forward anyway. That’s why gardens and Mother Nature are such wonderful teachers.
The flag didn’t quite reach the top, but it flew—a reminder that progress matters more than perfection.
The flag flew. Not all the way to the top. But it flew. And it comforted me.
It’s not about perfection, but progress.
Not waiting for everything to be just right.
But moving forward anyway.
Then Came Poison Ivy
After embracing imperfection and celebrating my victory over the flagpole, I headed into the garden. The restored garden, where many of Marty’s perennials are settling into their new home, is thriving. So are the weeds. Among them was poison ivy.
Lots of poison ivy.
Poison ivy and I have a long history. When I was a little girl, my sister dared me to rub a leaf all over myself. I accepted the challenge. As it turns out, I’m extremely allergic. My eyes swelled shut.
My sister has long been forgiven. Though I suspect she still carries a few scars from the time I challenged her to ride a Radio Flyer wagon down our steep driveway.
Poison ivy has lessons of its own. Urushiol oil can linger on tools for years. Dogs usually don’t get the rash, but they can carry the oil.
Mature poison ivy vines develop distinctive fuzzy aerial roots.
Never burn poison ivy.
Never weed-whack it.
And if you ever hear me say, “If it’s hairy, you better ask Mary,” check out a previous blog post below, and you’ll know exactly what I mean.
Despite all my precautions this year, I still ended up with a mild case– far better than it could have been.
The Garden of Life
Healing takes time. Plants heal. Hearts heal. And our bodies do too.
The knot remained. The flag didn’t quite reach the top. The poison ivy found me anyway. And yet, it was a beautiful day.
The Garden of Life teaches us that there will always be another knot, another unfinished project, another imperfection, another challenge we didn’t anticipate.
Life isn’t waiting for us to become perfect. It’s asking us to participate. It’s asking us to participate. To grow. To heal. To keep moving forward.
To love and be loved. To support those we care about. To find purpose and belonging. To remember that we are part of something larger than ourselves.
One world.
One garden.
One human experience we share with nature.
May we never take for granted the freedoms we enjoy, the beauty of our country, and the opportunities we have to shape its future.
While everything in our world is not perfect, it is up to each of us to keep moving forward—with kindness, appreciation for our differences, and recognition of what we share.
We all want the same things: to love and be loved, to support those we care about, to find purpose, and to feel a sense of belonging and peace.
The flag flew. Not perfectly. But it flew. And it is glorious.
Garden Dilemmas? AskMaryStone@gmail.com or tune in on your favorite Podcast App.
Prefer to Listen?
This story is also a feature in this week’s episode of Garden Dilemmas, Delights & Discoveries, with additional reflections from the screen porch:
🌿 Related Posts
What We Carry Forward in the Garden of Life
The Gift of Noticing a Dove Tree That Didn’t Bloom
Growing Belonging in the Garden of Life
Value of Virginia Creeper vs. Poison Ivy
