Do you have in your garden a special plant: a plant that takes you back to your beginnings?
I do. Tenaciously, it soldiers on. Right now it’s in full bloom, creating a vibrant display of glorious colour. Just as it did, long ago, in another front garden, when I was very small.
That’s what I most remember: the bright purple petals splashed with wine, mingling amongst its companions, the fire-engine red geraniums. I was too young to get my head around the long names, especially the patterned, precious pelargoniums; doubly prized since they flowered less often.
As a child, I loved to pick the flowers: gathering ferns to complete the display. Did my fresh eyes perceive the wonder of it all ever more brightly?
By happy chance, my parents struck cuttings from the original plants, and these and their offspring are still with us today. A symbol, a reminder, of another time, another life.