Growing up, my idea of what a garden looked like was fairly narrow. There were really only two possibilities. One genre was expressed in the form of my father’s and grandfather’s vegetable gardens, which were rows of edible potential – the list of acceptable vegetables was quite narrow now that I think of it. Think of an illustration from Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit. Cucumbers, cabbages, zucchini, beans were all common. The thought of rhubarb, carrots, or melon while acceptably within the confines of a typical garden, were also extravagant. Quite exotic and exciting.
Picture B
The other genre was well displayed in my mother’s flower beds. These were spaces on the edge of a lawn which were edge-to-edge color during certain seasons, and a strange array of greens and leaves during others. The population of these flower gardens was far more diverse than the vegetable gardens. Each year my mother would go to gardening centers, farms and other odd places to bring home something brightly colored with an appropriate seasonal match to what was already living in her garden space. Inevitably she would have a mix of perfectly matching flowers and whatever was on sale that week. In some cases whatever she had discovered in conversation or neighborly visits to other flower gardeners. Thus the small gardens would be so choked full of plants and flowers that the weeds barely stood a chance. At least, this is how it all seemed through the eyes of a 10 year old growing up in a place with an extremely limited growing season. The mere thought that there are places in the world where you could plant corn more than once during a single season would have blown my mind!
Picture C
As I grew, and traveled more I learned that these
definitions of “garden” were clearly not the only options. In high school I visited Versailles and was
excited to see vast French gardens, only to be horribly disappointed
because … it's all dirt! The idea
that gardens, public or otherwise, would leave huge sections of their land
exposed as a choice and a contrast to highlight the careful shaping of planted
bushes and tress was both shocking and ugly to my undeveloped eye. I still prefer a more filled garden to a
sparse decoration of shapes and design, but there is beauty to be had in either
setting.
Picture D
On occasion though it still strikes me just how similar some
gardens can be. On a bright sunny day
recently I sat in Boston’s Public Garden only to be struck by how similar that
place was to Hyde Park in London. The
more I thought about it, the more it also reminded me of the small park in my
home town, which despite the extraordinary differences in public funding, had similar
ambience and a striking feeling of home.
Picture E
Throughout this post I’ve sprinkled a picture or two of gardens, parks, and a few other locations that elicit a similar feel. Although some of these places are so remarkably different that it would be like comparing apples and orangutans, they are also so similar that a jet-lagged traveler may, for a moment, forget where she is.
Picture F
Picture G
Picture H
A: Public Garden,
Boston, USA; B: Hyde Park, London,
England; C: Safari Walk, Nairobi, Kenya;
D: Central Square, Taboshar, Tajikistan;
E: The Road to Kara-Sakal, Tajikistan;
F: Hyde Park, London, England; G: Khujand, Tajikistan; H: Lincoln Park, Chicago, USA
