Now I can add another flower to the list. Last fall I dug up a few spindly, pitiful little asters and planted them in the wildflower garden. When you see them around the island -- as in this photograph from along the bog path -- they look like something hiding out. It didn't seem like they had it in them to do very well in the garden, but I thought I'd give it a try.
Inside the garden, the stems and leaves began to come up in early summer. They were growing into plants so tall and graceful, so beautiful, really, that I wasn't sure it could be the same thing I had planted in those spots last fall. Maybe something else had blown in instead. Day after day I looked at them wonderingly.
I noticed that some of the stems and leaves were chewed off on the side of the plant nearest the fence. Later I caught sheep lolling about just outside the fence with their hands in their pockets, whistling innocently. And then one morning I shooed three lambs away as they shoved their muzzles between the pickets to get a taste.According to this scientific experiment, sheep love asters. I'm happy for them to have all the asters they can eat, everywhere else on the island.
But not these.