Hannah used to say, "I'd know which each of them gardings belonged to, ef I see 'em in Chiny," and so she might, for the girls' tastes differed as much as their characters. Meg's had roses and heliotrope, myrtle, and a little orange tree in it. Jo's bed was never alike two seasons, for she was always trying experiments. This year it was to be a plantation of sun flowers, the seeds of which cheerful land aspiring plant were to feed Aunt Cockle-top and her family of chicks. Beth had old-fashioned fragrant flowers in her garden, sweet peas and mignonette, larkspur, pinks, pansies, and southernwood, with chickweed forthe birds and catnip for the pussies. Amy had a bower in hers, rather small and earwiggy, but very pretty to look at, with honeysuckle and morning-glories hanging their colored horns and bells in graceful wreaths all over it, tall white lilies, delicate ferns, and as many brilliant, picturesque plants as would consent to blossom there.
I carried our rickety wooden ladder into our backyard, camera slung around my neck. And I don't know why it happened, but as I brought this blossom into focus…
…my mind drifted back to a passage from Little Women. I remembered the gist of it, but I looked it up, anyway. I wanted to get these words just right:
A lovely passage, isn't it? And I'd venture to say that my garden (this gardener) portrays a wee touch of each character in Little Woman, wouldn't you?