I cannot walk into our garden without constantly being reminded of the friends who have shared their plants.

Show me a person without prejudice of any kind on any subject and I'll show you someone who may be admirably virtuous but is surely no gardener. Prejudice against people is reprehensible, but a healthy set of prejudices is a gardener's best friend. Gardening is complicated, and prejudice simplifies it enormously.

An angel, legend has it, took pity on a little shepherd girl who had nothing to give to the Infant Jesus in his manger. The angel handed her a weed, but first transformed it into this beautiful flower of winter.

But there is one place where a person can make choices that will lead in a small way toward greater sanity in dealing with the natural order. That place is the private garden.

Of course, the character of my garden is also determined by things beyond any human decision, mine or anyone else's.

Crabgrass is aptly descriptive of this hated weed, for it does scuttle quickly through a lawn.

In addition to all its rich offerings to the body and its five senses, gardening engages the mind.