LAMORINDA WEEKLY | Gardening with Cynthia Brian: Care, Share and Be Fair


Close up of the rose peach petals Photo Cynthia Brian

The day I became a gardener was the first sunny day in the month of March. My dog, Bullet (yes, named after Roy Roger's and Dale Evan's Hollywood hound) and I went for a stroll in my mother's prized garden with the intent of picking her a beautiful bouquet. Not a great idea.

It was the intoxicating fragrance of the blooming Daphne that led me down this garden path. The glossy leaves with the abundant purple-throated flowers on the outside with the flush of pink inside and the scent of a Goddess were irresistible to my six year-old paws. After pinching as many blossoms as I could hold, I moved on to the deep pink camellias. How excited I was to arrange such a lovely bouquet! Of course, in my earnest efforts to choose the best blooms, I had also discarded numerous buds unworthy of my magnificent mom.

That's when we heard the screeching scream and the formidable footsteps. "Cynthia, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times not to pick flowers from the garden without asking," my mom yelled as she ran towards me. With teeth barred, Bullet posed his protection, growling like a mountain lion. No one, including my momma was going to intercept his mistress, me. "Mom, but I'm picking you a bouquet to cheer you up. These are for you, " I pleaded, as only an innocent can, while my mother's eyes sadly surveyed her beautiful petals littering the bricks. "Come with me, young lady," my mom ordered. "Today you get a gardening lesson."

And with that admonition, Bullet and I became gardeners. Instead of a spanking, mom walked us around her expansive grounds sharing names of the plants, growing habits, and flowering schedules, all the while explaining that it was disrespectful to the gardener to harvest blooms without an invitation. It wasn't long after this incident that my parents bestowed each of their children with a small plot of land that we could call our own. "Plant what you will and pick what you want," was the message. It was a bit like Beatrix Potter's Mrs. Rabbit warning her precious bunnies, "Now, my dears, you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden!"

Once Bullet and I had our very own garden, we didn't like anyone picking our flowers or vegetables either. The garden became our sanctuary-our special place where we could just be, dig, play, and enjoy the smells of the earth while watching the insects, worms, and occasional gopher or snake. We worked hard in that space and we most definitely felt it was ours. Bullet guarded it as if he was a three hundred pound beast instead of the thirty-pound mutt he was. No one was allowed to pluck without consent lest they confront his wrath.

Of all the emails and letters I receive, one overwhelming theme arrives from frustrated homeowners asking what they can do to keep intruders from pilfering their flowers, fruits, and vegetables. I empathize with their sentiments. There have been workmen who took every one of my oranges and lemons when they thought I wasn't looking, stuffing big bags in their trucks. "Excuse me, what are you doing?" I've asked, "These are my precious citrus!" I've endured numerous responses, including "well, they were just hanging on the tree. We didn't think you wanted them," to "lemons are so expensive in the stores, and we love fresh fruit." I've had walkers pinch a bountiful bouquet of my tantalizing tulips thinking I was the hired help while commenting to me "why should I buy a spray when there are so many right here!" What are they thinking...or not thinking?

No matter what our intentions, how big a garden is, or how many varieties of flowers, fruits, vegetables, and herbs are growing in the area, we always must respect private property. Even in a poor economy, purloining someone else's goods is stealing...pure and simple.

Today as I pick my camellias and I inhale the scent of the aromatic Daphne, I am grateful for my March gardening lesson so many moons ago. A garden is to grow and a garden is to share, yet we must always remember that a garden requires a hard working gardener to flourish.

As you enjoy the plethora of yellow daffodils, blossoming plums, ripe Meyer lemons, and flowering quince, make sure to ask before you help yourself to a clipping, a snippet, or a bag. Gardeners are enterprising generous folks and they may be saving those special specimens for a special occasion. By politely requesting, most likely you'll be given a sampling because gardeners enjoy planting happiness. Gardeners also know that the best things to come out of the garden are gifts for others. Don't be a thief. Care, share, and be fair.