For as long as I can remember, the best part about visiting my grandmother’s modest little home was playing in the garden that she had created in her backyard. There was a sense of happiness and exhilaration when I saw the array of colors shining in through the screen door from her dull, gray family room. It was quite obvious she had spent more time in her backyard nourishing her garden than actually being inside of her home. The garden exudes a beam of light and life that no other part of her home can truly undertake because my grandmother had put such a significant amount of her time and effort into nurturing every single plant that she grew there. It goes to show that simplest things can carry a very significant value depending on the amount of attention and care that the person gives to it.
One of my best childhood memories was seeing my grandmother’s garden for the very first time. With my tiny but determined fingers, I pushed open the cold and heavy screen door that leads to the backyard garden. I stood in silence as I gaze at the display of vibrant colors before me. Rows and rows of tulips in every color aligned in the back of the field. The smell of sweet fruits and fresh vegetables reached towards the end of each of my nostrils. Not long after the incredible sight and smell, my ears sense a buzzing sound from a distance. A handful of bees swarmed around the delicate petals of the tulips. My fear of insects overcame as I dashed ever so quickly back into the house. The sound of buzzing now transitioned to a series of chuckles. As I nervously turned around, I saw my grandmother standing beside me wearing a bamboo hat that shielded the top half of her face. “Sweetheart, the bees will only sting you if you disturb them” she...
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...dirty; therefore, the garden began to slowly disintegrate under her care or lack of care.
It suddenly became clear to me why I love the garden so much. It was an extension of my grandmother. The garden that I fell in love with only came into existence because of the hard work and determination that my grandmother put into creating and maintaining it. When my grandmother became old and ill, she wasn’t able to sustain the healthy condition of the garden, thus, it became “old and ill” along with her. Before I left my grandmother’s house, I planted some tulip seeds in the center of her garden and made a promise to myself that I would return every other day to nourish it as she once did. Since my grandmother can’t leave her room I made sure the vibrant tulips are viewable from her room, hoping that it will make her dull room a little bit brighter as she once made mine.
the modern garden. She interprets how we have the need to control and create what we consider perfect with our sciences and labs. While rules reign, sanitation demands, and socialization take control of the perfect scene for a pleasant environment, the unpleasant side of these malls such as their trash is kept out of the vision of the consumer. Most of these consumer products that are used to entice the population to enter into this heavenly place on earth became waste that is not entirely recycled
Looking out the window, I spotted my grandmother planting beautiful orchids and dahlias. They swayed in the soft spring breeze as she danced around them, sprinkling droplets of water on their petals. From that moment on, my dream had been to create a garden of my own. The next Saturday, instead of going to the market, I bought seeds, a shovel, watering can, and soil. When I reached home, I started right away on my garden. It was behind the house in a sunny place. About an hour passed and my flowers were all planted. I called my new garden “Ted Myles’ Garden of Smiles”. That was a pretty clever name, huh? After waiting for a few months, I learned my lesson. Never plant in a super sunny spot. I found this out in a very sad way. My flowers never grew. The seeds just sat there under the ground. I watered them, fertilized the soil, watered them again, and yet they still sat there in the soil, still as a statue. But I kept trying, planting seed after seed, determined to receive just a glimpse of green appear over the soil. Finally, a month later, my tulips grew. I took great care of them, making sure they didn’t die, but everything must die
In life, actions and events that occur can sometimes have a greater meaning than originally thought. This is especially apparent in The Secret Life Of Bees, as Sue Monk Kidd symbolically uses objects like bees, hives, honey, and other beekeeping means to present new ideas about gender roles and social/community structures. This is done in Lily’s training to become a beekeeper, through August explaining how the hive operates with a queen, and through the experience Lily endures when the bees congregate around her.
Throughout The Secret Life of Bees , there is no shortage of symbolism, coming directly from its namesake, bees. Each connection draws upon the deep and rich meaning behind this wonderful composed text. The bees, however, never are a scapegoat. Similar to Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird character Atticus, they never allow for shortcuts or disillusion with reality. They force you to see the world as it is, and to accept it, and send love to it, for it is all you can, when you are as insignificant as a
...ots her memory, the blossoms her dreams, and the branches her vision. After each unsuccessful marriage, she waits for the springtime pollen to be sprinkled over her life once again. Even after Tea Cake's death, she has a garden of her own to sit and revel in.
Ruth, Elizabeth. “The Secret Life of Bees Traces the Growth of Lily’s Social Consciousness.” Coming of Age in Sue Monk Kidd’s The Secret Life of Bees. Ed. Dedria Bryfonski. Detroit: Greenhaven, 2013. 63-65. Print. Social Issues in Literature. Rpt. of “Secret Life of Bees.” The Globe and Mail 2 Mar. 2002: n. pag.
On the other hand, the garden itself within The Secret Garden can be classified as a cultivated natural therapeutic landscape. What makes the garden truly remarkable as a therapeutic is its role in Mary’s coming of age, considering that prior to Mary’s exposure to the garden she was raised without an appropriate adult role models but nonetheless reached emotional maturity. In addition, the garden is considered a true therapeutic landscape due to its role in healing not only Mary, but also Colin and Archibald
Walker, Alice. (1974). “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens.” Ways of Reading. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, pp. 694-701.
So perhaps neither is Walker writing truly about gardening nor Jacobs about her adolescence. They are both speaking to the nature of sainthood-the sainthood of artists. Their work is our evidence that saints needn't be implored or opportuned for guidance-because the spiritual broadcasting of this direction is inherent in what makes them women, artists, and Saints. Their power is our reminder of the power and beauty of art-of creation. The hope that their genius and mastery exude is the flame which keeps ignited the sparks of creation fundamental to humanity.
I later understood that gardening is generally associated with a life of leisure, with relaxation. For me, it was a competition. I'd ask my seedlings, 'Who's growing the fastest?' 'Who's the tallest?' Fearing bad karma, I tried to stay impartial, lest a subconscious preference for green beans would cause me to water them more often, while dumping bleach on the onions. Every night I'd give my parents an update on rates of growth, any signs of produce, and my never-realized irrigation plans.
One might think, based on the cultural importance of individualism in the United States, that a person can lead a successful life without any companions or loved ones. However, in The Bean Trees, author Barbara Kingsolver shows otherwise. Through the development of a flowering plant motif in this novel, the world is shown to be a place where people need others who love and care for them to live a fulfilling life. The motif of flowering plants develops meaning through the author’s continued use. Kingsolver introduces this motif in the chapter “The Miracle of Dog Doo Park” when the wisteria blossoms out of the seemingly hostile environment of the polluted, parched park. The word “miracle”
...that suspends the boundaries of man and nature, the way in which she structures the last image to be one of hostility indicates the unsustainable nature of the garden.
Gardeners often find deep satisfaction in their gardens because they are rewarded by their patience and
Bees are small flying insects, buzzing around with its painful stings which always make people afraid and annoyed. What generally relate with bees are their roles in pollination and producing honey and beeswax. So it seems that bees might be nothing to human as it’s easy to find substitutes for honey as flavoring. However, this perception is mistaken. Without bees, aftermath.
As I look back on my childhood a great number of memories hide in my mind; sleepovers with friends, hanging upside down on the monkey bars, eating ice cream are but a few. The one memory that doesn't hide is of the postcard perfect house that I love and adore. From the hearty cattails and rose brown apple trees to the grilled cheese, this place reminds me of my childhood fun but also the love that my whole family shared. The red brick house and its surroundings will keep my memories forever.