The Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew were founded in 1840, and I have visited them numerous times since childhood. So why have I never written about the experience? It could be that my visit there this July was under different circumstances that brought out a different beauty and appreciation for the grounds.
I can't remember the last time I visited in summer. The rose garden, kitchen garden and rock garden are all in bloom. I recognized some of the very same plants in my garden back in Minnesota, but without the weeds. There was so much to see, smell and take in. The gardens are planned, but still informal with groupings of perennials that complement each other in height, color and texture. Lavender grows beneath the fruit trees and passion fruit climb over the vegetable beds. The grapevines provide shade for the tea drinkers.
There were notable absences as well. None of the beds that are carefully planted out with bulbs and spring annuals were blooming. Some were left bare earth, others were planted with mustard to compost and enrich the soil. I was surprised to find that not every inch is used year round. Of course, there is so much else to see, with many new plantings and often an art exhibit.
Kew has Europe's largest compost heap which is mainly used for the gardens, but is also occasionally auctioned off as a fund raiser! There is a horticultural school and student beds. The composting and experiments are hidden from the public, but are just a small part of the botanical knowledge to be gained from the gardens.
I also noticed the fewer numbers of people people, the 'Closed for your safety' signs and strictly enforced path ways to follow that meant many parts of the gardens were not open to visitor. Because of the pandemic, the gardens have only just reopened, and all visitors must prebook online to enter. There is no inside dining in the Orangery, and the orchid hothouse is closed. That meant I had less options, but came across some hidden gems nonetheless. I found the carnivorous plants and a very interesting beehive ginger whose waxy leaves resemble a large pine cone and hold water. A peacock was posing in the Japanese garden, delicately patterned leaves climbed up the palm trunks, and Love-lies-bleeding made a soft curtain of hanging blooms. At a certain point I stopped trying to photograph everything, and let myself just take in the refreshing experience.
The water lily house had not changed, but reminded me of my last visit here, with family on my mother's 90th birthday. She loves Kew, and this house in particular. Unfortunately she was not strong enough to come on this visit. I hope to get her here soon, even if in a wheel chair, so she can feel the peacefulness of being amidst all this beauty. Even without the ability to wander, one can feel the surround of living things, and benefit from the calming sounds and scents. I am especially aware of the garden's healing effects as this visit comes at a stressful time of my caring for my mother. My sister-in-law was the one who suggested the visit, her words:
I really felt that you needed a break somewhere beautiful like Kew with everything that has happened. I always find it healing and calming being in God's creation. Hope that this happened for you too.
I love to tend to plants in the garden, but they also tend to me - their seasons mirror my own.
“God made a beauteous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said "To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowers tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end."
God's Garden”
― Robert Frost
No comments:
Post a Comment