It’s Labor Day Weekend, the traditional end to summer. And, as usual, it’s been a summer that’s seemed far too short and far too busy.

One of the highlights of my summer was visiting with a number of Lakes Region gardeners and touring their gardens. My hosts and hostesses graciously welcomed me, eagerly showed me around, and enthusiastically answered my questions.

I have come away from this experience a richer person both in garden knowledge and, I’d like to think, in new friendships.

And richer, of course, in fantastic ideas I can’t wait to copy, I mean try.

Isn’t that what gardening’s all about, anyway? We gardeners love to show others (especially other gardeners) our gardens. And we love to ramble through the gardens of others, taking in each ingenious planting scheme, gaining inspiration from each stunning color combination and appreciating each of the many hours of hard work needed to achieve such pleasing results.

Gardening is truly a paradox. Intensely personal in its creation, it offers a very public display. Immensely satisfying, it leaves the gardener craving more.

The labor it takes to begin and maintain is forgotten in the moments of complete relaxation it provides when observed and enjoyed.

As I toured these hometown gardens, I kept noticing plants that I didn’t have growing in my own – plants I’d either forgotten about or had never tried.

In these next few weeks, I’ve decided I will tour my own garden with a fresh eye. Yes, I know I’ll find weeds I’ve ceased to notice as well as a myriad of other imperfections I’ve allowed to creep in.

But what I’ll also find are holes in my plantings where I can plop in some gloriosa daisies – I rediscovered them in several gardens this summer, butterfly weed – blooming with abandon in Kerry Dyer’s garden, and some hibiscus like the glorious plants found in Rita Moore’s garden.

If I’m really on the ball, I’ll take the time to mark those empty spots now – with Popsicle sticks and permanent marker, or in some other way – so that next spring, when everything is just beginning to emerge, I will know what I want and where I want it.

And if I’m smart, I’ll also make a master list and carry it with me. That way, if there are any deals at nurseries this fall, I’ll remember what I’m looking for. And when that first fresh, warm spring day comes – many long months from now – I’ll know just what I want and need to fill in those gaps; to make my garden look as wonderful as all of those spectacular gardens I visited this summer.

After all, the next growing season is only eight or nine months away.