Every morning on my walk to work I pass the gardener for The Farnsboro condominium building. He is meticulous; raking every last leaf out from between the hydrangeas, pruning each plant to perfection, arranging mulch like Tibetan monks creating sand mandalas. Everyday we exchange pleasantries, and everyday I secretly wish I could stop and play in the dirt and soak up his green thumb secrets. Despite the summers I spent on the farm, I am not nearly the horticulturist I should be. It’s not that I kill every plant I touch, I just haven’t kept every plant alive. Continue reading →