During the uncertain days of the Covid-19 lockdown, an unexpected creative seed was planted. An author, confined like millions worldwide, was encouraged by her publisher to write about the flowers of the Himalayas. The goal was simple: to offer a mental escape to those trapped indoors, from London to elsewhere, by painting a vivid picture of mountain blooms.
From Botanical Hesitation to a Holistic Vision
The author initially resisted the idea. She firmly stated she was not a botanist. However, she began making notes on specific plants. This process led to a significant revelation: the plants could not be separated from their environment. She realized the stories were intertwined with the people nearby and the animals that grazed on or nurtured them. Thus, the project evolved from a simple guide to flowers into a richer narrative about her entire surroundings. Throughout this period, she also continued her parallel passion for painting.
Roots of a Lifelong Passion for Gardening
The author's connection to gardening is deep and familial. She explains that her father, a geologist whose work moved the family frequently, was a dedicated gardener. In every rented house, he would transform any available patch of land into a thriving garden filled with vegetables, flowers, and visiting birds. Her mother would feed and water these birds. This early exposure ingrained a love for growing things. Even in her university student room, she kept plants while others had posters. Her gardening journey reached a new chapter when she moved to the mountains, exchanging flower pots on a veranda for her own patch of earth.
The Healing Touch of Soil and Persistent Growth
The land surrounding her mountain home was far from ideal. It was barren, covered in garbage and construction waste, dominated by nettles and weeds. Neighbors and onlookers were pessimistic, citing the north-facing slope, limited sunshine, and canopy of large deodar trees that showered the area with pine needles. The author faced repeated failure and frustration. Yet, she persevered.
She later discovered scientific insight that explained her drive: contact with soil introduces bacteria that trigger a chemical response in the body, leading to feelings of contentment and peace. This connection to the earth sustained her in gardening and her work as a potter. She draws inspiration from gardener Anna Pavord, who, after cancer treatment, crawled to a hospital garden to touch soil, an act that gave her the strength to continue.
The book, born from collective pandemic grief, also became a vessel for personal memory. The author had long wanted to write about a garden through the people present in spirit within it. Each plant in her garden became attached to the memory of a person or a time, knowing its origin and planting story. While there is a sense of loss, the plants—like lilies or cacti from loved ones—allow them to live on. She describes the garden as a living, personal photo album, experienced uniquely by its caretaker.
The journey culminated with a neighbor's pragmatic, if discouraging, remark that "everything happens in its own time." While meant as a prediction of failure, the author has often witnessed how people predict failure at the start of new endeavors. Her garden, and the book it inspired, stand as a testament to quiet determination, the healing power of nature, and the memories that blossom from the soil.
