The Humblest Houseplant
Midwinter can be a soul-trying time for Maine gardeners. Fortunately, there is a spiritual aid at hand.
By Richard Grant
My ex-wife told me she had been out puttering in the garden. It was late autumn, and we were talking on the telephone. My ex-wife lives in the semitropical clime of northern Virginia, where autumn does not have the same connotations (spectacular foliage, golden afternoon sunlight, highways clogged with leaf peepers) that it does here in Maine. She told me that she had been staking up asters and collecting seeds from echinacea and performing other little tasks that, in truth, did not really need doing.
