Wednesday 27 June 2007

In the genes

It has been said that getting older, one becomes one’s mother. I think I passed that milestone a while ago. One summer I started to make large quantities of marmalade from local oranges in great grandma’s copper cauldron. I caught myself thinking, “Yikes, I’m becoming just like mum!”

Today, I think I caught a glimpse of my grandmother Alice Ann surfacing. She loved wildlife. As a teacher, she taught many nature lessons in one room schools during the First World War. When I was a small child she would tell me the names of wild flowers as we walked through her garden or the orchard at the back of her house.

As I chatted with the floristry course tutor today, I got a thrill seeing how much I would learn in the six months course I plan to start next month. Even more so, because the flora of New Zealand is largely unique to these islands, something my grandma would have revelled in. But I shall miss the feeling I have every time I see Rose Bay Willow herb, her favourite dancing hedgerow flower. I have never seen it here.

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