The Kind of Gardener I Am Not

“"It was in Cut Bank that I saw the garden and the kind of gardener that I am not. In the front yard of each little house—the houses were small, bungalow-like, a style of architecture very much suited to vast expanses of landscape—were little gardens blooming with flowers. The flowers, almost without exception, were petunias (red, purple, white), impatiens, portulaca, and short, red salvia. There was one garden that seemed more cared for than the others and that had a plaque placed prominently in a garden bed that read: “Garden of The Week.” And that is exactly the kind of gardener I am not and exactly the kind of garden I will never have. A garden made for a week is unknown to me. For years I have been making a garden and unmaking it too. It isn’t out of dissatisfaction that I do and undo, it is out of curiosity. That curiosity has not lead to stasis. It has lead to a conversation. And so it is, I have been having a conversation in the garden. And so it will be until I die." * Photo from an article in the Harvard Gazette, which says "Kincaid’s immediate plans include writing, reading, cultivating her garden, and following her own curiosity."”