Gardening is an act of hope. I have a quote framed on my office wall: “Live as if you will die tomorrow; garden as if you will live forever.”

During a break from answering questions at the Napa County Master Gardeners’ mobile help desk at a local garden center last spring, I sat contemplating the procession of carts loaded with plants headed for new homes. I thought about the optimism these purchases represented and the patience that would be required to achieve the hoped-for results.

Imagining the flavor of a sun-ripened tomato or the scent of a just-picked peach is the  kind of thought that brings us out to our local nurseries. The pictures in nurseries, magazines and catalogs always show flawless mature plants, and we hope for the same results in our gardens. But as I watched the parade of plants at the garden center last March, I knew the chances for frost were still great. How many dreams would be dashed?

Tomatoes and basil promise edible pleasure, but why plant an ornamental tree? Do you have a vision of a shady place to relax in a hammock? Or of a nesting place for wild birds? Are you imagining some cooling shade for a hot wall or window, or a screen to hide the neighbor’s RV?

Perhaps you have a memory from childhood of a tree with a powerful fragrance, or one that provided a secret hiding place in your grandmother’s garden. When we were young, my sister and I virtually lived in a big old plum tree during the summer and inevitably got stomach aches from eating the unripe fruit.

Planting a tree calls for a long-term perspective and awareness that your vision may take years to realize. For those of us accustomed to instant gratification, a tree tests our patience.

One of the most gratifying and spiritual moments that I have had in my gardening career occurred while planting a grove of redwood trees. These 19 trees were approximately 10 feet tall in 15-gallon buckets, and the grove was designed to hide a building from view. The water system was installed; the soil was well prepared, moist and easy to dig. The job, while physically demanding, was not frustrating. There were no buried boulders to move or leaky old pipes of unknown function.

I began the task just after sunrise on a clear fall day, anticipating that the coming winter rains and cool weather would help my trees become established. At one moment, when I was about halfway through the planting, I looked back at the new trees and noticed that they were already occupied. A flock of small birds was perched in the branches of the young redwoods, chattering and enjoying the warmth of the morning sun.

At that moment I thought, this is why I do what I do. I could envision the future there: a large grove of redwood trees, the cool shade and soft, spongy mulch beneath them, owls and hawks perched in the upper branches, rain dripping through the fine filters of the leaves.

This vision made me want to camp out and spend the night in the shelter of those trees, sleeping on that soft soil. And surely some future family would enjoy a picnic in this redwood grove.

My next thought was that I probably would not live long enough to see the grove mature. Redwoods are one of the fastest-growing trees, but maybe not fast enough for my years. Then I thought of the trail of trees that I have left in gardens all over the Napa area. Some are still there, some are not; but I have moved on.

However hard you try to hold on to some things, change is inevitable. In the world of gardening, as in life, we should welcome change as an opportunity. No matter how perfect the design and how well-drawn the plans, gardening involves working with living things. Animals and insects have needs that sometimes conflict with ours. Plants get life-threatening diseases. Even trees have a life span and experience old age. Weather can interfere. Maybe grandmother’s fragrant old lilacs might refuse to grow in our cool and foggy coastal areas.

The inevitable change is already coming to my redwood grove. It has been three years since I planted them, but my trees are already casting shade on an area destined for a new solar power field. Some of the trees will be saved and moved; others may be sacrificed.

I think it’s time to get busy planning the next area of the garden, and continuing the act of hope.

Napa County Master Gardeners are available to answer questions in person, by phone or on their Web site. Call 253-4221 or visit www.mastergardeners.org for information.