A garden is like a microcosm of the world. Seeds are germinated and grow to fruition. Then after a time, once their season of growth is past, they fade away and die.

I sit in my wicker chair and watch the stages come and go every year.

Knowing I carefully arranged the plants and pushed the seeds down into the soil just so.

And then I wait.

Every day I walk around the perimeter of each little garden spot on my patio and look for signs of progress.

I am elated when I see signs that, yes, the plants are coming up.

Tiny at first, barely discernible. But there just the same, ready to lean up toward the sun to guide them.

There’s simply nothing else like it. The creating and tending of a garden.

How many problems have I worked out while tending my gardens? Plans I made as I pulled the weeds and snipped the spent flowers?

I’ve created gardens and had to say goodbye to them. I think about those gardens sometimes.

I never knew that I would be leaving them for someone else to enjoy.

But I hope they did. I hope they looked at my little patches of ground and thought to themselves: Someone loved this garden.

For some reason it’s important to me that they realized that.

And so wherever I go I grow more gardens. Tenderly care for them.

Watch the flowers bloom and the butterflies and bees fly from flower to flower. I listen to the birds singing up in the trees.

And I always feel pride that I merely did what gardeners always do.

Plant the seeds and watch them grow.

The love of gardening is a seed once sown that never dies.” – Gertrude Jekyll


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  1. I think the worst thing was when I so lovingly made a beautiful garden and the people who moved in after me ripped it all out because they hated gardening. xo Laura

  2. I grew up in an old mining town high up in the Adirondack Mountains. There was a beautiful gothic looking mansion that had no one living in it and as a child I used to wander the grounds and the gardens thinking about who had planted these gardens long ago. There was a bench with a trellis with roses growing on it beside a pool. There were paths with vinca and tiny white flowers that smelled so sweet. I can’t recall their name right now. My mother has to work so left yo my own devices I would go exploring. I still wonder who planted that garden albeit there were just remnants of it remaining. I also think about those who owned the gardens and wonder if they enjoyed them as much as I did discovering them. This was my secret garden as a child and I would disappear there for hours and feast on the raspberries along with the rabbits and birds. Thanks for rekindling this memory today.

  3. My mother planted a beautiful flower garden in Detroit for so many years. She taught me how to carefully plant tiny seeds that produced lovely zinnias, marigolds and my favorite, Sweet Williams. The entire yard smelled heavenly with the scent of lilacs in June. She told me, “You only have to plant the tiny seed and God will take care of it. Good soil and rain will make it bloom.” I was only four at the time.
    We soon moved and my mother passed away. My love of gardening has been the one constant in my life. I never went back to that old home in Detroit for over fifty years. Three years ago, something made me drive to my old neighborhood one gorgeous day in June. The entire block of old homes was torn down. But there was magic planted there. I saw a group of young teenagers and small children tending this huge community garden on my old city block. My mother would have been so proud that her garden was part of this beautiful lush and city garden lovingly cared for by so many young people. They planted the seeds and God took care of the blooms. Amazingly, the scent of lilacs filled the air. Huge lilac bushes were planted long the back border. God gave me a gift that day and I am certain that my mother is gardening in Heaven.

  4. Brenda,
    this post made me wonder if you have ever been back to any of your past homes/gardens? I have occasionally drove by my past homes and looked to see what the new owners have done to the yards and houses. I used to plant citrus trees at every house I ever owned in California. They were the anchor of my gardens. Most still are thriving; I have always loved to be able to pick lemons and oranges for my recipes.
    Today, living in the Pacific Northwest, I’m all about Blueberry bushes, Japanese Maples and Apple and Cherry trees. Right now my Cherry trees are in glorious pink blooms! So breathtaking!
    Have a blessed week, and hug your fur babies for us!

  5. Thank you. I dont often comment, but I am grateful for your wonderful and inspirational emails. Much love to you and your furry friends.

  6. Good morning Brenda, I love this! The idea that your gardens wherever they have been have been tended and well loved and are left behind for the people that came after you. I am sure that they have enjoyed all of your hard work! Have a beautiful week!

  7. I love this post, Brenda. It’s provided ‘food for thought’ for me this morning. Your words can apply to anything that will only grow if we nurture it. I’m not necessarily speaking about emotions, such as love, care, etc. I’m speaking about nurturing anything that brings joy into our lives or our little corner of the world. Not sure I’m making sense but it’s definitely making sense to me. You’ve helped me start my day with some deep thinking. Thank you so much, as this is a very good thing as I continue to struggle with life. Gentle hugs, dear lady!

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