My friend Mary Ann over at Gardens of the Wild Wild West asked us a while back to share with her the stories of why we garden. "What makes you brave the wind, sleet, high temperatures, low temperatures, frost and frost bite to put little tiny seeds or great big trees in the ground. Why oh why? And you do it again and again. Eternal optimists, yes. But I know there is mor e to your story. Tell me what it is." I've only read one of my fellow bloggers' essays and Leslie of Growing A Garden in Davis certainly captured a good many of the reasons I garden. Like Leslie and probably most gardeners, certainly I garden for the joys and delights both the process and the results bring me. There are days when my heart is so full of emotion that I can only sit and sigh as I survey the beauty all around me.
But I garden not just because of what it gives to ME, I garden because it's an opportunity for me to give to others and to make the world a better place. I garden because I believe it's a way for me to be the change that I wish to see in the world. Even if it's insignificant in the grand scheme of things, my small surburban corner of Katy affects the lives of those who walk or drive by. Sometimes they stop to ask the name of a plant or to tell me how the garden reminds them of a special time or place in their lives. They recognize a plant that their mother or grandmother grew and for an instant, they're that beloved child or grandchild again. Young children stop to exclaim over the butterflies and to shyly ask if they may pick a flower. Even a few of the teenagers fall under the garden's spell and stop to tell me, as one young woman did, that seeing it "makes my day all bright and shiny". I garden because I know that someone's day is better for having seen the poppies in bloom or watched a Monarch butterfly nectaring amongst the coneflowers and Cosmos. I garden to remind them, and myself, that life is good.