I have known a few passionate gardeners both here and in Europe, but only two of them really closely. My observations, then, rely on the scientific sample of n=2, and are thus pure speculation.

Gardeners need a number of traits to survive, much less be successful.

They need vision – a plan, a sense of design, the ability to translate from a piece of drawing paper to the visualization of how things look like. They need patience, because things evolve slowly. They need a high tolerance for lack of control, because each garden has its own mind, and things never work out as planned. They also need to like things ephemeral, or at least accept that state, because things happen quickly and are gone before you blink when it comes to blooming season.

Gardeners need to work hard and be oblivious to bad weather, or the daily wildlife in form of spiders, bugs, moles, mice, bats, mosquitos, the occasional snake or raccoon, to cite a few. Slugs, did I mention slugs? All of this is true whether you have a lovely small cottage garden, a functional garden with a bit of ambition, like my childhood’s which I described yesterday, or one of those estates that should be on a list of “most beautiful gardens to visit.”

The latter kind also introduces some additional requirements: you need to be able to lead a team and work with others, since the tasks cannot be done by one person alone, and you need to have the openness to accept your team mates’ ideas – since everyone who steadily tends to a large garden develops a sense of ownership. You need to be able to convey that you call the shots without feeling guilty and you need – let’s be blunt – some serious financial commitment, since large gardens are not a cheap passion.

 

Gardeners are not just rewarded by beauty and a sense of creativity. They constantly observe and facilitate a cycle of rebirth that potentially takes the sting out of thoughts of impermanence. Gardening chases the blues away. And working with your hands in the dirt, all of the smells and tactile sensations earth has to offer surrounding you, really focusses you in that moment, with all worries banished.

Banished, that is, until your back aches and your knees scream……..

And here are Blue Iris by Emil Nolde