One of the few books I brought back from New York when I moved to California (via a pit stop in North Carolina for ten months) was my Herb book.

My very first book purchase in CA was the Sunset Western Garden Reference Guide.

My love of plants can be traced back all the way to my parent’s first home in a small suburb of Buenos Aires, Argentina.  In pictures, I am proudly displayed on all fours, probably four or five months old, next to a dwarfed colorful Pinocchio.  This ceramic statue is placed strategically in my mom’s treasured tiny first garden of hopes and dreams.

Trees, flowers, shrubs and gardens in general have become a familiar backdrop to most photographs of myself up to this day.  Close ups of flowers also tend to be the majority of my litany of pictures. A trip to the local botanical, historical, indigenous, private or public garden has long been a destination wherever I am.

You can learn a lot about the climate and culture of a place by their local customs, foods and gardens.  Gardens have been used to bury art and family treasures when invaded by the enemy, they have been used countless times in movies, in art and can teach you math, science, design and the list goes on.  They are an expression of your wealth (think Versailles), your hope (Victory gardens) and your creativity (Disneyland comes to mind).  They can be small, out or indoors and potted.

When I lived in my first apartment, hanging plants hung from WWII ceilings.  The care and nurturing of those first plants reflected the care and nurturing I did or did not give myself.  Plants can be revealing as well as healing.

Gardens, plants, fauna, flora, landscapes and the variety of Earth’s beauty intrigue, fascinate the soul and give us sustenance.