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.

Not knowing where your food comes from is a primary form of alienation.

Gardening is in large measure a phenomenon of attention.

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

We quickly discovered that two kittens were much more fun than one.

Democracy is fine in politics. It should stay there, and we need more of it. But its political virture is no reason to practice it in the garden.

I know of no common interest that exceeds gardening as a source of lifelong friendships, nor as a means of making new friends almost constantly.