Volunteers

First, before I go into volunteers, those wonderful surprises blown from errant seeds into carefully-planned beds, bringing blips of startling color to monochrome swaths, here is the plan: the top half of the daylily bed lining the driveway is orange and yellow Frans Hals, named for the cheerful dutch painter; and the bottom half is yellow hyperion-like Dover.  A simple balance of spectacular color that grows denser, more intense, each July.   

And then, as you scroll down the picture below, you'll see the errant bit of purple loose-strife, then the nodding black-eyed susan, and then the crowning glory: two "Raspberry-parfait" (a daylily expert tells me) lilies at the bottom.  Don't know where they came from, but what a delight!  I used to pull volunteers out to maintain the integrity of my beds, but now I feel the opposite: they're the glory of the garden.  Why?  Maybe I'd just rather not work as hard, just take more weeding time to stare and marvel.  Feels better.