To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. — Audrey Hepburn
Sweet peas are a generational touchstone, I know they certainly are for me. Recently I got a card in the mail from an old friend reminiscing about the sweet peas that once grew on his grandmother’s fence. He said the memories came flooding back after reading a review of Sweet Pea School that I wrote for The Seattle Times, prompting him to buy the book even though his gardening years are long behind him. My friend plans to pass the book along to his sister so that he can share the sweet memories.
What are the plants of your past? What plants will people remember you by?
My grandmother had a large bed of tightly packed lily of the valley. The scent of all those tiny blossoms blooming all at once is a core memory.
Both my mother and grandmother each gardened the complete perimeter of their backyards. Any visit to each other's houses required a walk around the yard to see what was blooming and I tagged along. I can still picture which plants were where in those gardens.
I hope that my legacy will be kitsura…. I found out about the scent their leaves give off a few years ago and since then I bring it up at the slightest opportunity! None of my friends had ever heard of it.