Almost All the Flowers in My Mother’s Garden

“The habit, the interest in cultivating plants that could not be eaten, spread, and so did the ground surrendered to it. Exchanging, sharing a cutting here, a root there, a bulb or two became so frenetic a land grab, husbands complained of neglect and the disappointingly small harvest of radishes, or the too short rows of collard, beets. The women kept on with their vegetable gardens in back, but little by little its produce became like flowers―driven by desire, not necessity. Iris, phlox, rose and peonies took up more and more time, quiet boasting and so much space new butterflies journeyed miles to brood in Ruby”.¹

When heat and drought tortured many parts of Europe this past summer, I reflected on how privileged it is to have a flower garden. Not only do they need water and nutrients, but flowers also require significant care and attention, and the leisure time that comes with these demands. Then there is the privilege of tending to and cultivating a garden that produces no food, only aesthetic beauty. One can simply look at and love the flowers. Perhaps more than anything else...Read the full article in the printed issue. Get OVER Journal 3