phenology

If tending a garden has meant coming under the yoke of the seasons, my capitulation is complete; it is a willed captivity, however, perhaps like any other kind of passion.

Behind every bloom-filled border is a grubby, sweaty gardener with muddy knees, chipped fingernails, and sore muscles--and a big smile, too.

It is a great joy the day we discover that we can learn things without having to make the mistake ourselves.