A golden thread runs between my mother’s garden and mine. Earth beneath fingernails carries legacy and heritage.
Cauliflower, curry leaf, kangkong; my childhood and hers bloom together.
New migrants, tamarind, peppercorn, and bilimbi, tracing matriliny to my grandmother’s garden, will weather the winter and see how it goes.
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I’m really drawn to the image of a garden this time of year. I especially liked the idea of plants as inheritance.
There’s a larger essay about gardening and heritage that I’ve been toying with for too long. One day I’ll get around to writing it properly!
Your language is so beautiful. That first line drew me in right away. I don’t have the visceral connection to plants and gardens and growing things that you do, but you made me wish I did.
Loved the inheritance and the memories…you are rich ! 🙂