I was further learned from two native tribes, the Lummi and the Makah. They too influenced a young man of 15. I am now nearing my own bi-centennial and am ever more concerned about leaving behind an investment towards a future that our children will be filling after we re gone. It is a remembrance that this garden and this land belongs to the children, forwarded on loan. As stewards, we should be concerned enough to pass it on in the same health and beauty as it had been lent to us.
History provides a well spirit from which the soul as well as the garden draws.
The flowing memories of past inhabitants and friends are timeless legacies that can be drawn upon time and time again and in that sense the garden provides one with an immortality stretching out to future friends yet unknown who in their own circle s turn will take wonder at all you ve done. Mostly,in my pre-equinox autumn days, it seems that the garden is a workplace, a task maker of daily struggles and setbacks with the promised bounty of spring seemingly far away. So it is sometimes miraculous and truly unexpected when the Thursdays Child hears a thank you or meets an unexpected hug for having made an impact. It is hoped that this forum will reach out to gardeners who share their treasures or take the time to touch the young heart beating strongly in an elder s body. Most of mine have passed on, one just recently I viewed all of them as pollinators of this earth, elders who took the time to propagate difficult cuttings or who helped us younger sprouts to root more firmly for their deep and regular cultivation.