Over the years, many people have asked me why I garden, or how I "got good at it", or where to start. And I gush a bit, because gardening has been an innate part of me since childhood. So I smile and reflect and talk about it from my heart.
You see, nature captured my heart at a very young age. I still remember examining the velvety petals of Dad's red roses, or sitting near our neighbor Aurore's barn, watching her weed and tend her perennial border.
Dad showed me finches and cardinals and robins and titmouse. He taught me to listen to their call.
Aurore and Dad soldered together lessons on planting vegetables and deadheading petunias. They encouraged the seed inside me and kept it nourished.
Mom gave me little juice glasses to collect smiling purple pansies and clumps of wild violets. She patiently allowed them on the kitchen table, already overflowing with supper for seven.
Nature tugs during every waking moment.
I find myself constantly look to the Heavens and configuring moments into a frame by frame journal, abstract script imprinting my soul.
So when someone asks me to recommend or guide or encourage….
it quickly surges…
a molten path of childhood and happiness and gardens…zinnias and heirloom tomatoes….twisty garlic scapes and waves of green beans…leading to an abundance of moments in adulthood where nature has danced upon my heart. Moments of solitude as I tend and coddle and contemplate. Moments of peace as the catbird stays close by my side. Moments of joy as I share our abundance.
I truly believe that gardening is not about talent.
It is about desire, and patience.
It is about connecting with the world around us.
It is about self-growth.
It is about living a life of essence and zeal.
It is enlightenment.