Nature Contained

I don’t know at what age I declared that it was not spring until the crocuses, which have self-sown ever so delightfully, appear in the lawn of this old house that rests on Main Road about 1.5 miles North of Tiverton Four Corners. I can say with confidence that I have been associating their bloom with the coming of spring for at least half of my life. Every year, the crocuses expand their dominion; this year they march into the abutting tree nursery. I don’t know anything about the house itself, but because of the crocus, I ascribe it some sense of magical presence. In fact, I have decided that when I have children, I will tell them that the Easter Bunny lives there. He has all that he needs; a barn and a nice work space in the back, close proximity to a tasty organic farm (Manic Organic gardens the parcel across the street) and Gray’s Ice Cream is only a hop away (I imagine he likes Butter Pecan and Rum Raisin).

While I am on the subject of the crocus I should share one of my favorite childhood stories about my brother. Growing up, David had a window in his bedroom that was very large. It hovered about a foot from the garden, which made it a great entrance in and out of the backyard for a small child. I don’t know why, but one winter he decided to sprinkle Doritos out the window; maybe to feed our resident toads, Herbert and Sherbert? Months later, a little orange crocus appeared, and four year old David insisted that it was a Doritos plant. David’s first discovery in the garden! Twenty-odd years later, he is still in the garden, now playing with plants and flowers and designing lovely things at Nature Contained.

I have been attracted to this crocus display for some time. I believe I first saw it in a Gardens Illustrated magazine. I think there may have been a similar display at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen as well. The photo in the magazine article was immediately clipped out and pasted into my journal. I remember sharing the photograph with Sara Begg at River Gods, in Cambridge. While drinking beer and talking about plants (what else do two twenty-something chicks do on a Friday night), the display was instantly deemed “garden magic” and to this day, we still brainstorm about ideas which have evolved from the original little magazine clipping. The display mentioned was at Petersham Nurseries in southwest London. Petersham definitely sits on my list of places to visit if I ever happened to land in London. Just visiting their website is a treat. They have a teahouse and café, which looks as though it is stocked with all sort of lovely things from the garden, like butternut squash and lemon thyme soup and elder flower cordials. Sign up for their newsletter, which lists all their nursery’s events and enjoy your moment of Zen.