By Wendy Snow Fogg
Founder and Senior Herbalist at
Misty Meadows Herbal Center, Lee, New Hampshire
Wendy was warm and welcoming the first time I met her at a local community farming event almost three decades ago. She has been an inspiration among many other wonderful delights over all these years. When I asked her if she would share some reflections on how flowers have enriched her life she wanted to express her perceptive, graceful, and sensitive thoughts about spending evening time with the flowers in the garden, a quiet and soothing experience. Such a unique perspective. Plan a summer visit to Misty Meadows with a friend.
Founder and Senior Herbalist at
Misty Meadows Herbal Center, Lee, New Hampshire
Wendy was warm and welcoming the first time I met her at a local community farming event almost three decades ago. She has been an inspiration among many other wonderful delights over all these years. When I asked her if she would share some reflections on how flowers have enriched her life she wanted to express her perceptive, graceful, and sensitive thoughts about spending evening time with the flowers in the garden, a quiet and soothing experience. Such a unique perspective. Plan a summer visit to Misty Meadows with a friend.
As I work amid the sage and lavender, chamomile and lemon balm...
There’s something purely magical about gardening in the evening. The summer air is sweet and the day’s heat is waning. There’s a delicate hush once the bees have left their work and the neighbors have retired to their televisions and computer games.
As I work amid the sage and lavender, chamomile and lemon balm, my fingers forget about the arthritis and become nimble and quick; my knees reach hungrily for the soil, not minding if they crunch and crack a bit. Funny how I don’t need reading glasses to see the weeds at my fingertips. I thank them for coming to become next year’s compost that will feed this garden and make it more beautiful every year.
There’s a delicate hush...
Hummingbirds come in for their last sips of nectar, considering me now as part of the garden, no threat. A sparrow now and then, and perhaps even the male cardinal; but the fat squirrel who gets more than his share of bird seed during the day keeps his distance in the tree across the driveway hoping, I’m sure, for another snack before bedtime.
The rich, intoxicating aromas of the Oriental Lilies fill the air, and as I brush by the ginger and pineapple mints along the path and their fragrance mingles with the lilies’, the garden begins to take on the ambience of a delicious herbal tea. Weeding becomes a fragrant dance, carrying me into the world of plant spirit.
There’s something purely magical about gardening in the evening.
Long about 8:30, the mosquitoes lure me back with their song that sounds like a thousand sewing machines and I wander joyfully into the house for a much needed shower before bed.
Wendy Snow Fogg
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