“I used to grow gardenias THIS big,” exaggerated my great uncle as he rounded his fingers into a circle as large as a dessert dish.
My grandparents family had owned greenhouses in a small town in the Garden State and supplied flowers as far as NYC. I was told stories about growing roses and winning awards. I was shown old photographs of the tall smokestack, the family name painted on it, standing proudly above the town. Stories and memories were passed down from generation to generation, however, the green thumb I did not inherit.
Luckily, the gift of growing plants and the enthusiasm for the outdoors is strong in others. The landscaper has a head full of knowledge of plants, trees, soil, flowers.
The legs provide support for all day work. They transport the landscaper across the terrain and allow movement to all different locations.
The body is strong from working the land. My great uncle prided himself on his strength and muscle that was prime in his youth. He would tell me how he rode his bicycle up steep inclines and along the few roads that existed between his town and NYC.
All that encompasses the landscaper and his gift to the earth are pieced together to form the outdoor beauty we enjoy.
The attention is in the details. Selecting the perfect materials that match the environment. Helping all the pieces come together cohesively.
Though strength and power are needed at times. A gentle touch and a bit of love are required for the precious parts.
After all, the landscaper needs many tools to complete his work. Though my hands can make any healthy plant turn sick, I appreciate the opportunity to create this piece so future generations could know the love of the landscaper the way I heard stories about my family greenhouses.
dawn @ cabincreekstitchery.com