My Mom has green fingers, and I am certain that her toes are green, too. Ever since I can remember, our house was full of plants and flowers. Often, they did not belong to her, but were only staying with us like guests at a spa or clinic, for treatment or convalescence. Wherever we lived, people soon came to realise that my Mom could heal or bring back to life the most neglected, suffering plant. And she could never say no to an abandoned philodendron or cactus. I haven’t inherited her gift, but I do try to keep my wild garden in Rosebank, Cape Town, happy. My Dad always said that one has to reach a certain inner maturity to garden happily and successfully. Not sure about the successfully, but there is happiness all around. Perhaps I am gradually getting there?
I recently visited my Mom in Uttendorf, Upper Austria, and took a few photographs of the flowers in her garden. Spring at her most beautiful!