I grew up on the side of a hill, the bottom of what Pennsylvania calls a mountain. We had a pole light (you have to be from the country to know what that is!) and where it had been installed, there was a sort of terraced corner. Just a stone and cement corner to hold back the slope. At some point in my mom's youth that corner marked the edge of a garden rectangle, but all I saw of that were two Blueberry bushes at the opposite end, and two big English Walnuts marking the back. The wind in those walnut trees used to wake me sometimes, in the summer when I slept with the windows open.
That corner became my first herb garden. I don't remember how or why or when, exactly. I don't remember NOT having Lemon Balm and Lavender and Oregano and Thyme, and Sweet Woodruff growing in a sunken bucket because I read it would spread all over.
I do remember when mom bought me an Edelweiss plant. We were at a flea market, it was a grey day, and there was an Amish vendor with all sorts of seedlings. There wasn't much room left in the square that was my garden, and I didn't really need or want anything else. And then we saw Edelweiss. From Captain Von Trapp's lips, to my garden. It was lovely and delicate. And it brought a friend, what I have since learned is the Blue Asiatic Dayflower- a vining plant with a VIVID blue flower.
As much as I loved the Edelweiss, the Dayflower was an enigma. We bought Edelweiss! What was this interloper? I was learning that plants classified as "herbs" or "flowers" or "weeds" were part of a community, and were only separated into individual plastic pots for commercial distinctions. A Dayflower seed, or slip of root, must have found its way into that pot and stayed for the ride only to find itself in my garden. And that was OK.
I don't think either the Dayflower or the Edelweiss lasted very long in my garden, and I would be surprised if any of the garden at all remained today. But I have a warm spot in my memory for that pretty blue flower, and the journey it accidentally took to join that 'bit of earth' with the others. Sometimes I'm the Edelweiss, intentional and directed, and sometimes I'm the Dayflower, the happy accident for someone or something else. Look for the Dayflowers in your life.