The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway.

A garden should make you feel you've entered privileged space -- a place not just set apart but reverberant -- and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry.

Dreams of innocence are just that; they usually depend on a denial of reality that can be its own form of hubris.

For it is only by forgetting that we ever really drop the thread of time and approach the experience of living in the present moment, so elusive in ordinary hours.

A vegan in a Hummer has a lighter carbon footprint than a beef eater in a Prius.

Culture, when it comes to food, is of course a fancy word for your mom.

Avoid food products containing ingredients that a third-grader cannot pronounce.