Narratives in a Garden

 Generations pass while some tree stands. 

Sir Thomas Brown 

Recently while visiting my Aunt she took me on a tour of her garden. Just a little retirement garden now, but I recall the expansive country gardens my Aunt once commanded, but it wasn't the size of the garden that struck me.

What struck me was the familiarity of the garden. When I say familiar I don't mean that it looked or seemed the same as her other gardens, but because it is a garden built around connections with other people. 

A cutting taken from my grandparents' garden, a garden ornament gifted by a daughter, a river stone from the farm. It's the same in my mother's garden. Every time we go there she has to show me the rose bush cutting she took from the gift given to me by a friend when my second child was born, or the raspberry bushes that flourish in the corner of the garden that came from my childhood home in Marlborough, or the bean plants from Beryl next door. Every plant has a story. Every plant has a connection with the narrative of life.

It got me thinking about my own garden and the treasured plants I have managed to save as we have moved around the country so much over the past 20 years. A hydrangea cutting from my cherished childhood holiday place in the Marlborough Sounds, or roses gifted by friends. Let me show you a few.

Aunty Marjorie's Plant

Just a few months before my husband Rob's Aunty Marj left her home in Auckland to go into a rest home we visited her one afternoon at her house. As we were heading out the door she gave us a cutting of this plant growing at her front door and thrust it into our hands telling us it was given to her by a friend and she's always had it in her garden, that it wasn't very pretty and tended to take over, but she wanted us to have it. Now it flourishes in our garden and she was right - it does tend to take over.

You can just make out the plant behind Rob and Aunty Marjorie in this photo. This was the day she gave the cutting to us. I have no idea what it's called - it's just called Aunty Marjorie's plant.

Diane's Lemon

In my garden I have a lemon tree gifted by my sister in law when we moved into the house we built. When we had to leave there, we transplanted it to the new place and it's flourishing nicely.

A plant is always such a nice gift. We call it Diane's Lemon Tree.

Nana's Pig

Nana Spencer's terracotta pig. Nana always had this either at her front door or her back door with a succulent growing in it. In my memory it is always there in the garden as we left Nana and Grandad's place and they'd come to the fence and wave us off - always waving until the turn in the road when we were out of sight. 

The Life Tree

After Rob survived his cardiac arrest in 2017 we wanted to mark this second chance at life by planting a tree. One of his favourites is the Gingko tree, so when we moved to the house we are currently in, we planted one in a corner of the garden. Right now, in the middle of winter it is bare but in the summer it is a beautiful green and Autumn turns it into a bright gold.

Roses

Then there are all the beautiful roses we have planted around the house. Roses have a special significance for us - from the Sally Holmes that was gifted when our daughter was born, to the Birthday rose, to Blackberry Nip gifted by cousin Grace.

I recently learned that a garden with connections to people and places and events is very cultural to the Maori side of my heritage. When I heard that, it made so much sense to me. That's why my Mother and Aunt and Grandmother always tell stories around plants in the garden. It's built into our culture, an inherent part of who we are as people.

Maybe it's built into yours too. I'd love to hear if you have stories with plants.

A corner of my winter garden at home.

Share this: