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The Memory Gardener

Book by Meg Donohue · 31 quotes · Flower, Scent, Herb

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The Memory Gardener Quotes

“Along Miramonte Drive, shingled buildings in salt-scrubbed pastels bear the names of shops and restaurants that have been there for as long as I can remember, and longer still. Corde's Hardware. Pacific Surf Shop. Bantom Bay Books. Sakura Sushi. Miramonte Pizza. Las Olas Taqueria. I can't help smiling when I spot the cheerful red geraniums and trailing sweet potato vines that spill lavishly from the window boxes of the Shark Bite Café. I planted them myself a couple of years ago, and the cafés owner, Roger, was delighted to find that business ticked up soon after.”

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“But I know that I’ve always had a connection to plants, an ability to care for them in a way that makes them thrive quickly, vibrantly, fragrantly. And among the flowers that I grow… I’m able to sense when there is a fragrance that will return a person to a forgotten moment in time, a long-buried memory. Scents have always been heightened for me… the scents of the flowers that I grow most of all.”

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“And then one day, as I stood in front of the plant, puzzling over its unusual size and the strange connection that I felt to it, I sensed the rosemary's earthy, green, complex fragrance intensifying, lifting above all of the herbs' scents, pressing so close to me that it felt like breath against my skin, a murmured answer to my questions. The aroma was so strong that I could almost see it, gossamer and shimmering in the air.”

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“Even in its ragged state, the garden is astonishingly beautiful. The untended, untouched look of it--- and the ivy-covered walls that protect it on three sides--- only add to the air pf enchantment, of mystery, that rises from it like a shimmer of heat. It looks like something from a fairy tale, like it could have been torn from one of the picture books my mother read to me when I was a child. Here and there wishing the tangle of green, I spot flashes of purple. Is this the lavender that I caught a hint of earlier when I stepped out of my truck? I breathe in. Yes. The scent is as gentle, as soothing, as a warm bath. There are other scents, too... alluring notes that drift toward me in soft waves. Viburnum. Honeysuckle. Sage. Phlox. Roses, so many roses...”

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“Rosemary. I breathed in. Its fragrance was woodsy and herbal, rich and savory and layered with olive oil and pine. By that age, I'd been aware for years that my sense of scent was highly attuned; everywhere I went, fragrances whispered to me, telling me of the world, revealing to me insights that were hidden from others. But it wasn't until I held that rosemary in my hands that I began to understand my powerful connection to plants and their scents.”

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“There’s color here, too—- flowers like jewels sewn onto green silk. Rhododendron shrubs laden with magenta clusters of ruffled blossoms. Fronds of emerald ferns, luminous even in deep shadow. Weeds, tangled and exuberant, are flourishing most of all, but among them I sense the vibrant blossoms of periwinkle, primroses, and lunaria, small buds of white anemone nodding atop tall, thin stems, speckled hellebores and toad lilies pressing toward the light. And the viburnum! They’re thriving— ten feet tall and just as wide. Along the walls, and now and then along the edges of the path, their creamy-white, pink-tinged blossoms float atop dark green leaves, and their spicy vanilla fragrance threads through every shadow.”

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