Look at them:
I know chicory mostly in its most common environment, by the side of roads. Since Kevin and I have known each other it has been a mutual favorite. It even inspired the color palette for our wedding. Then why I am I always so very tempted to take the weed wacker to this planting that Kevin has been nurturing the last few years?
Well, before it blooms it always looks just so messy. It’s so easy when it looks like that to forget about how we both love it in bloom.
When the flowers do finally open I am in awe and ashamed. Ashamed that I would contemplate cutting it down, ashamed that I forgot or didn’t think highly enough of its beauty. That I was impatient for it to earn its keep.
The sad thing is that next year it will probably be the same, I’ll forget.
I hope not. I hope I’ll learn to wait for its beauty and to accept it even in flower as a little straggly and imperfect. No tidy beds, no mulch, just shocking brilliant blue on a cloudy day.
Good luck to you chicory. I pray for you chicory, may you overcome Lisa, with memories of your humble beauty.