It was the Roman philosopher Cicero who said, “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” Growing up in Jamestown, Indiana, my dad Robert was a preacher and my mother Mary was a nurse. We had plenty of books, but never a garden. We just had grass to mow and a hedge to trim twice a year, if we were lucky. My older brother Jim did a lot of the work, but he moved out when I was around 11, so the outdoor chores were my department. My sister Sarah was just a couple of years older than I was, but her chores were mostly inside. Mowing and trimming was my job.
While it may have involved plants, in the strictest of senses, it was certainly no garden, so by Cicero’s definition, and as I have gotten older I agree with him more and more; perhaps it was only a life half lived. Everyone needs a garden, for in time, not only the plants grow—the gardener grows too. The garden represents life.
In the garden, differences are recognized and appreciated. This is not an industrialized farm with hundreds of acres of the same crop marching to the same drum. This is a garden, where the tall spires of the snapdragons are enjoyed, but the low-growing phloxes hugging the ground also have a place. This is where the aroma of the lilacs in all their grandeur fills the air, but the small and dainty lily-of-the-valley smells just as sweet. This is the place where the bushes burn fire-red and the hydrangeas are glacier-blue. Whether the garden is large or small, it is a world of differences, each lovely to behold. The gardener understands.
But the differences are more than skin-deep. If you plant the often-used hosta in the sun, it will falter and fail, for it needs the shade. If a home is made for the butterfly plant in the shadows though, it will soon show signs of struggling for it loves basking in the sun. Yes, different plants have different needs. Some need it dry, while others like it wet. Some bear up in the cold. Others thrive in the heat.
Also, beyond necessities, different plants have different temperaments as well. Some handle adversity quite well, while others are more sensitive. Some are velvety soft, while others are prickly as a porcupine. Variety is the spice of life and it is here that we see individuals so different come together in beautiful harmony. In the garden, differences are appreciated. The gardener understands.
Another lesson the garden teaches is the importance of roots. What is happening below the surface is often much more important than what is happening above ground. In the garden, you feed the roots, not the leaves. If the roots are healthy, then usually the plant will be healthy too. If the plant is having trouble, you might have to dig to get to the root of the problem. Roots are important, and young plants with shallow roots require even more care. The pecan trees that tower above have found their own source from which to drink. But the youths of the garden are not quite so independent yet. They need a watchful eye and good care. They need stability too. Plants do not like being uprooted too much, especially young plants. The newly-planted go through plenty of growing pains. The gardener knows this and recognizes that fruit, shade, or flower will all come in time. For now, the young are precious, just the way they are. The gardener understands.
As the plants grow, a gardener also sees the good things that can come from adversity. When a limb is dead, it can be cut off and discarded, thus preventing disease from spreading. Suckers, unfruitful shoots, can be pulled from a tomato plant, so that they are not using up energy the fruit-bearing branches need. Even if a plant is healthy though, it needs to be pruned back from time to time. After a rose bush
has bloomed and welcomed the sun and all who pass see her gently curved petals, there comes a time for the sharp pain of the lopping shears. The rose bush responds in the most marvelous of ways. It gets beyond the initial shock and it sends forth even more branches than before! It fills out and it thrives.
Through something painful something wonderful has come, newfound strength and growth. The gardener understands.
There are other times of adversity in the garden too. There are times of drought. The gardener knows that while care must be taken, a little drought can be a good thing. Roots go deeper when rain is scarce, which leads to the plant more established than before. It is a survival instinct that will serve it well, both now and in the future.
From time to time, certain plants need to be divided. If a chrysanthemum gets too big for its space, the caretaker will gently dig it up and cut the plant in two, root and all, and then replant the two halves in different areas. Sometimes a space just is not big enough for the two of them. Both plants will be shocked by the upheaval in their lives, but they will do better going forward. The gardener understands.
The gardener always keeps an eye open for weeds as well. While weeds can certainly be attractive in their own right, such as the delicate dandelion when the wind blows its feathers far and wide, they are nuisances. Weeds soak up all the resources the gardener may provide. They do not know the word “enough.” They will crowd out and choke all that is good in the garden, if perseverance is not observed. It is a strange thing, but it is a fact, that weeds grow considerably faster than anything else in the garden. That which is good always grows slowly. That which is bad grows, and grows out of hand, much too quickly. Weeds must be removed. The lazy will just nip them off at ground level, but not in this paradise. Here, weeds will be removed, root and all. When it comes to that which is bad, less bad is not good enough. Some things will not be tolerated. There is much about life that the gardener understands.