It's not about the plants, it's about a sense of place.
I recently had the opportunity to record a conversation between a couple of writers for a magazine. One of the writers kept this garden out behind his house. He'd sit for long periods in his run-down chair, drinking his coffee and staring at an apple tree as it fought to escape the encroaching blackberry vines. Who can watch that struggle without intervening? A good listener. Someone who's ego doesn't need to fix everything.
How do you imagine this writer's work would vary from a writer who hung out at in the gardens at Versailles?
This photo by that kat chick, shared via Flickr.
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