In the Garden



fairchild 031


When I was eleven years old, we moved to Hawaii, at the time, the entire island felt like a garden, my garden – the bounty was endless, thus I could dig up taro plants and make poi, string plumeria’s together, creating my very own leis, and pick endless bouquets of Anthuriums, which seemed to last forever, as cut flowers!

There are many varieties of Anthuriums, with a wide range of color, including the white peace lilies, which we are all so familiar with; for me however, the bright red, almost plastic feeling plant, with slender leaves, which are not native to Hawaii, where I first saw them, will always be the only real Anthuriums – it is funny how we associate things, even incorrectly, or perhaps often incorrectly.

I have tried to grow Anthuriums, but have been unsuccessful, which baffles me, as I normally have two rather green thumbs. Nevertheless, I feel a great fondness for this plant, any time that I see it, remembering the solace nature provides, especially when you are eleven, and for the first time in your life people keep telling you, you are a haole – a garden can offer such succor and shelter from that we do not understand.

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